ELEONORA 

"We  called  it  the  '  River  of  Silence,'  for  there  seemed    to 
be  a  hushing  influence  in  its  flow." 


The  Tales  and  Poems 

of 

Edgar  Allan  Poe 

VOL.  II. 

Tales 

.                                                                           «      "            .'             '"       v      '       '        '         ' 

G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons 
New   York  and  London 
Gbe    Ifcmcfcerbocfcer    ipress 

Contents 


PAGE 

The  Conversation  of  Eiros  and  Charmion     .         .       i 

Mystification n 

Why  the  Little  Frenchman  Wears  His  Hand  in 

a  Sling .     25 

The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman  .  .  .  -35 
The  Business  Man  ......  144 

w,The  Man  of  the  Crowd 159 

^The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue""        .         .         .174 
A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom      .         .         .         .231 

The  Island  of  the  Fay 259 

The  Colloquy  of  Monos  and  Una  .         .         .  268 

Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head  ....  283 
Three  Sundays  in  a  Week  .  /  .  -.  .299 
Eleonora  .  .  .  .  v  .  .  .  .310 

^The  Oval  Portrait 320 

The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death       .     /   .         .         .326 


List  of  Illustrations 

PAGE 
'Eleonora     ......  Frontispiece 

"  We  called  it  the  '  River  of  Silence,'  for  there 
seemed  to  be  a  hushing  influence  in  its  flow." 

The  Man  of  the  Crowd 172 

"  This  old  man  ...  is  the  type  and  the 
genius  of  deep  crime." 

The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue         .        .        .188 

"  In  a  small  paved  yard  in  the  rear  .  .  . 
lay  the  corpse  of  the  old  lady." 

The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue         .        .        .     228 

"  The  gigantic  animal  had  seized  Madame 
L'Esplanaye  by  the  hair  (which  was  loose,  as  she 
had  been  combing  it)." 

A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom     ....     232 

"  Now  raise  yourself  up  a  little  higher ;  hold 
on  to  the  grass  if  you  feel  giddy — so,  and  look 
out,  beyond  the  belt  of  vapor  beneath  us,  into  the 
sea." 

'  The  Island  of  the  Fay 264 

"I  ...  threw  myself  upon  the  turf,  be 
neath  the  branches  of  an  unknown  odorous 
shrub,  that  I  might  doze  as  I  contemplated  the 
scene." 

v 


List  of  Illustrations 


PAGE 

Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head  .        .        .     296 

"  I  saw  him  high  in  the  air,  pigeon-winging  it 
to  admiration,  just  over  the  top  of  the  stile." 

The  Oval  Portrait 324 

"  He  would  not  see  that  the  tints  which  he 
spread  upon  canvas  were  drawn  from  the  cheeks 
of  her  who  sate  beside  him." 

The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death    .         .         .         .330 

"  There  was  much  of  the  beautiful,  much  of 
of  the  wanton,  much  of  the  bizarre,  something 
of  the  terrible,  and  not  a  little  of  that  which 
might  have  excited  disgust." 


VI 


he    Conversation    of    Eiros 
and   Charmion 


Uvp  6 01  Ttpo(5oi(5ca. 
I  will  bring  fire  to  thee. 

EURIPIDES — Andromache* 

EIROS. 


HY  do  you  call  me  Eiros  ? 


CHARMION. 


So  henceforward  will  you  always  be  called.     You 
must  forget,  too,  my  earthly  name,  and  speak  to  me 
s  Charmion. 

EIROS. 
This  is  indeed  no  dream! 

CHARMION. 

Dreams  are  with  us  no  more ;  but  of  these  mysteries 
anon.     I    rejoice    to    see   you    looking   lifelike    and 

VOL.   IV. — X. 


Eiros  and  Charmion 


rational.  The  film  of  the  shadow  has  already  passed 
from  off  your  eyes.  Be  of  heart,  and  fear  nothing. 
Your  allotted  days  of  stupor  have  expired;  and,  to 
morrow,  I  will  myself  induct  you  into  the  full  joys 
and  wonders  of  your  novel  existence. 

EIROS. 

True,  I  feel  no  stupor,  none  at  all.  The  wild  sick 
ness  and  the  terrible  darkness  have  left  me,  and  I  hear 
no  longer  that  mad  rushing,  horrible  sound,  like  the 
"  voice  of  many  waters."  Yet  my  senses  are  be 
wildered,  Charmion,  with  the  keenness  of  their  per 
ception  of  the  new. 

CHARMION. 

A  few  days  will  remove  all  this ;  but  I  fully  under 
stand  you,  and  feel  for  you.  It  is  now  ten  earthly  years 
since  I  underwent  what  you  undergo,  yet  the  remem 
brance  of  it  hangs  by  me  still.  You  have  now  suffered 
all  of  pain,  however,  which  you  will  suffer  in  Aidenn. 

EIROS. 
In  Aidenn  ? 

CHARMION. 
In  Aidenn. 

EIROS. 

Oh,  God!  pity  me,  Charmion!  I  am  overburdened 
with  the  majesty  of  all  things,  of  the  unknown  now 


Eiros  and  Charmion 


known,  of  the  speculative  future  merged  in  the  august 
and  certain  present. 

CHARMION. 

Grapple  not  now  with  such  thoughts.  To-morrow 
we  will  speak  of  this.  Your  mind  wavers,  and  its 
agitation  will  find  relief  in  the  exercise  of  simple  mem 
ories.  Look  not  around,  nor  forward,  but  back.  I 
am  burning  with  anxiety  to  hear  the  details  of  that 
stupendous  event  which  threw  you  among  us.  Tell 
me  of  it.  Let  us  converse  of  familiar  things,  in  the  old 
familiar  language  of  the  world  which  has  so  fearfully 
perished. 

EIROS. 

Most  fearfully,  fearfully !  this  is  indeed  no  dream. 
CHARMION. 

Dreams  are  no  more.  Was  I  much  mourned,  my 
Eiros? 

EIROS. 

Mourned,  Charmion  ? — oh,  deeply.  To  that  last 
hour  of  all,  there  hung  a  cloud  of  intense  gloom  and 
devout  sorrow  over  your  household. 

CHARMION. 

And  that  last  hour — speak  of  it.  Remember  that, 
beyond  the  naked  fact  of  the  catastrophe  itself,  I  know 

3 


Eiros  and  Charmion 


nothing.  When,  coming  out  from  among  mankind, 
I  passed  into  night  through  the  grave — at  that  period, 
if  I  remember  aright,  the  calamity  which  overwhelmed 
you  was  utterly  unanticipated.  But,  indeed,  I  knew 
little  of  the  speculative  philosophy  of  the  day. 

EIROS. 

The  individual  calamity  was,  as  you  say,  entirely 
unanticipated;  but  analogous  misfortunes  had  been 
long  a  subject  of  discussion  with  astronomers.  I  need 
scarce  tell  you,  my  friend,  that  even  when  you  left  us, 
men  had  agreed  to  understand  those  passages  in  the 
most  Holy  Writings  which  speak  of  the  final  destruc 
tion  of  all  things  by  fire  as  having  reference  to  the  orb 
of  the  earth  alone.  But  in  regard  to  the  immediate 
agency  of  the  ruin,  speculation  had  been  at  fault  from 
that  epoch  in  astronomical  knowledge  in  which  the 
comets  were  divested  of  the  terrors  of  flame.  The 
very  moderate  density  of  these  bodies  had  been  well 
established.  They  had  been  observed  to  pass  among 
the  satellites  of  Jupiter  without  bringing  about  any 
sensible  alteration  either  in  the  masses  or  in  the  orbits 
of  these  secondary  planets.  We  had  long  regarded 
the  wanderers  as  vapory  creations  of  inconceivable 
tenuity,  and  as  altogether  incapable  of  doing  injury 
to  our  substantial  globe,  even  in  the  event  of  contact. 
But  contact  was  not  in  any  degree  dreaded;  for  the 
elements  of  .all  the  comets  were  accurately  known. 

4 


Eiros  and  Charmion 


That  among  them  we  should  look  for  the  agency  of 
the  threatened  fiery  destruction  had  been  for  many 
years  considered  an  inadmissible  idea.  But  wonders 
and  wild  fancies  had  been,  of  late  days,  strangely  rife 
among  mankind ;  and  although  it  was  only  with  a  few 
of  the  ignorant  that  actual  apprehension  prevailed 
upon  the  announcement  by  astronomers  of  a  new 
comet,  yet  this  announcement  was  generally  received 
with  I  know  not  what  of  agitation  and  mistrust. 

The  elements  of  the  strange  orb  were  immediately 
calculated,  and  it  was  at  once  conceded  by  all  ob 
servers,  that  its  path,  at  perihelion,  would  bring  it  into 
very  close  proximity  with  the  earth.  There  were  two 
or  three  astronomers  of  secondary  note  who  reso 
lutely  maintained  that  a  contact  was  inevitable.  I 
cannot  very  well  express  to  you  the  effect  of  this  in 
telligence  upon  the  people.  For  a  few  short  days 
they  would  not  believe  an  assertion  which  their  in 
tellect,  so  long  employed  among  worldly  considera 
tions,  could  not  in  any  manner  grasp.  But  the  truth 
of  a  vitally  important  fact  soon  makes  its  way  into 
the  understanding  of  even  the  most  stolid.  Finally,  all 
men  saw  that  astronomical  knowledge  lied  not,  and 
they  awaited  the  comet.  Its  approach  was  not,  at 
first,  seemingly  rapid;  nor  v/as  its  appearance  of 
very  unusual  character.  It  was  a  dull  red,  and  had 
little  perceptible  train.  For  seven  or  eight  days  we 
saw  no  material  increase  in  its  apparent  diameter, 

5 


Eiros  and  Charmion 


and  but  a  partial  alteration  in  its  color.  Meanwhile 
the  ordinary  affairs  of  men  were  discarded,  and  all 
interests  absorbed  in  a  growing  discussion,  instituted 
by  the  philosophic,  in  respect  to  the  cometary  nature,. 
Even  the  grossly  ignorant  aroused  their  sluggish 
capacities  to  such  considerations.  The  learned  now 
gave  their  intellect,  their  soul,  to  no  such  points  as 
the  allaying  of  fear,  or  to  the  sustenance  of  loved 
theory.  They  sought,  they  panted,  for  right  views. 
They  groaned  for  perfected  knowledge.  Truth  arose 
in  the  purity  of  her  strength  and  exceeding  majesty, 
and  the  wise  bowed  down  and  adored. 

That  material  injury  to  our  globe  or  to  its  inhabi 
tants  would  result  from  the  apprehended  contact,  was 
an  opinion  which  hourly  lost  ground  among  the  wise ; 
and  the  wise  were  now  freely  permitted  to  rule  the 
reason  and  the  fancy  of  the  crowd.  It  was  demon 
strated  that  the  density  of  the  comet's  nucleus  was 
far  less  than  that  of  our  rarest  gas ;  and  the  harmless 
passage  of  a  similar  visitor  among  the  satellites  of 
Jupiter  was  a  point  strongly  insisted  upon,  and  which 
served  greatly  to  allay  terror.  Theologists,  with  an 
earnestness  fear-enkindled,  dwelt  upon  the  Biblical 
prophecies,  and  expounded  them  to  the  people  with  a 
directness  and  simplicity  of  which  no  previous  instance 
had  been  known.  That  the  final  destruction  of  the 
earth  must  be  brought  about  by  the  agency  of  fire, 
was  urged  with  a  spirit  that  enforced  everywhere  con- 

6 


Eiros  and  Charmion 


viction ;  and  that  the  comets  were  of  no  fiery  nature 
(as  all  men  now  knew)  was  a  truth  which  relieved  all, 
in  a  great  measure,  from  the  apprehension  of  the 
great  calamity  foretold.  It  is  noticeable  that  the  popu 
lar  prejudices  and  vulgar  errors  in  regard  to  pesti 
lences  and  wars — errors  which  were  wont  to  prevail 
upon  every  appearance  of  a  comet — were  now  alto 
gether  unknown.  As  if  by  some  sudden  convulsive 
exertion,  reason  had  at  once  hurled  superstition  from 
her  throne.  The  feeblest  intellect  had  derived  vigor 
from  excessive  interest. 

What  minor  evils  might  arise  from  the  contact  were 
points  of  elaborate  question.  The  learned  spoke  of 
slight  geological  disturbances,  of  probable  alterations 
in  climate,  and  consequently  in  vegetation ;  of  possible 
magnetic  and  electric  influences.  Many  held  that  no 
visible  or  perceptible  effect  would  in  any  manner  be 
produced.  While  such  discussions  were  going  on, 
their  subject  gradually  approached,  growing  larger  in 
apparent  diameter,  and  of  a  more  brilliant  lustre. 
Mankind  grew  paler  as  it  came.  All  human  opera 
tions  were  suspended. 

There  was  an  epoch  in  the  course  of  the  general 
sentiment  when  the  comet  had  attained,  at  length,  a 
size  surpassing  that  of  any  previously  recorded  visita 
tion.  The  people  now,  dismissing  any  lingering  hope 
that  the  astronomers  were  wrong,  experienced  all  the 
certainty  of  evil.  The  chimerical  aspect  of  their  terror 

7 


Eiros  and  Charmion 


was  gone.  The  hearts  of  the  stoutest  of  our  race  beat 
violently  within  their  bosoms.  A  very  few  days 
sufficed,  however,  to  merge  even  such  feelings  in 
sentiments  more  unendurable.  We  could  no  longer 
apply  to  the  strange  orb  any  accustomed  thoughts. 
Its  historical  attributes  had  disappeared.  It  op 
pressed  us  with  a  hideous  novelty  of  emotion.  We 
saw  it  not  as  an  astronomical  phenomonon  in  the 
heavens,  but  as  an  incubus  upon  our  hearts,  and  a 
shadow  upon  our  brains.  It  had  taken,  with  incon 
ceivable  rapidity,  the  character  of  a  gigantic  mantle 
of  rare  flame,  extending  from  horizon  to  horizon. 

Yet  a  day,  and  men  breathed  with  greater  freedom. 
It  was  clear  that  we  were  already  within  the  influence 
of  the  comet;  yet  we  lived.  We  even  felt  an  unusual 
elasticity  of  frame  and  vivacity  of  mind.  The  exceed 
ing  tenuity  of  the  object  of  our  dread  was  apparent; 
for  all  heavenly  objects  were  plainly  visible  through 
it.  Meantime,  our  vegetation  had  perceptibly  altered ; 
and  we  gained  faith,  from  this  predicted  circumstance, 
in  the  foresight  of  the  wise.  A  wild  luxuriance  of 
foliage,  utterly  unknown  before,  burst  out  upon  every 
vegetable  thing. 

Yet  another  day,  and  the  evil  was  not  altogether 
upon  us.  It  was  now  evident  that  its  nucleus  would 
first  reach  us.  A  wild  change  had  come  over  all  men ; 
and  the  first  sense  of  pain  was  the  wild  signal  for 
general  lamentation  and  horror.  This  first  sense  of 

8 


Eiros  and  Charmion 


pain  lay  in  a  rigorous  constriction  of  the  breast  and 
lungs,  and  an  insufferable  dryness  of  the  skin.  It 
could  not  be  denied  that  our  atmosphere  was  radically 
affected ;  the  conformation  of  this  atmosphere  and  the 
possible  modifications  to  which  it  might  be  subjected, 
were  now  the  topics  of  discussion.  The  result  of  in 
vestigation  sent  an  electric  thrill  of  the  intensest  terror 
through  the  universal  heart  of  man. 

It  had  been  long  known  that  the  air  which  encircled 
us  was  a  compound  of  oxygen  and  nitrogen  gases,  in 
the  proportion  of  twenty-one  measures  of  oxygen  and 
seventy-nine  of  nitrogen  in  every  one  hundred  of  the 
atmosphere.  Oxygen,  which  was  the  principle  of 
combustion  and  the  vehicle  of  heat,  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  the  support  of  animal  life,  and  was  the 
most  powerful  and  energetic  agent  in  nature.  Nitro 
gen,  on  the  contrary,  was  incapable  of  supporting 
either  animal  life  or  flame.  An  unnatural  excess  of 
oxygen  would  result,  it  had  been  ascertained,  in  just 
such  an  elevation  of  the  animal  spirits  as  we  had  lat 
terly  experienced.  It  was  the  pursuit,  the  extension 
of  the  idea,  which  had  engendered  awe.  What  would 
be  the  result  of  a  total  extraction  of  the  nitrogen  ? 
A  combustion  irresistible,  all-devouring,  omni-preva- 
lent,  immediate;  the  entire  fulfilment,  in  all  their 
minute  and  terrible  details,  of  the  fiery  and  awe- 
inspiring  denunciations  of  the  prophecies  of  the  Holy 
Book. 


Eiros  and  Charmion 


Why  need  I  paint,  Charmion,  the  now  disenchained 
frenzy  of  mankind  ?  That  tenuity  in  the  comet  which 
had  previously  inspired  us  with  hope,  was  now  the 
source  of  the  bitterness  of  despair.  In  its  impalpable 
gaseous  character  we  clearly  perceived  the  consum 
mation  of  fate.  Meantime  a  day  again  passed,  bear 
ing  away  with  it  the  last  shadow  of  hope.  We 
gasped  in  the  rapid  modification  of  the  air.  The  red 
blood  bounded  tumultuously  through  its  strict  chan 
nels.  A  furious  delirium  possessed  all  men ;  and,  with 
arms  rigidly  outstretched  toward  the  threatening 
heavens,  they  trembled  and  shrieked  aloud.  But  the 
nucleus  of  the  destroyer  was  now  upon  us ;  even  here 
in  Aidenn,  I  shudder  while  I  speak.  Let  me  be  brief — 
brief  as  the  ruin  that  overwhelmed.  For  a  moment 
there  was  a  wild  lurid  light  alone,  visiting  and  pene 
trating  all  things.  Then — let  us  bow  down,  Char 
mion,  before  the  excessive  majesty  of  the  great  God! — 
then,  there  came  a  shouting  and  pervading  sound,  as 
if  from  the  mouth  itself  of  HIM;  while  the  whole 
incumbent  mass  of  ether  in  which  we  existed  burst  at 
once  into  a  species  of  intense  flame,  for  whose  sur 
passing  brilliancy  and  all-fervid  heat  even  the  angels 
in  the  high  heaven  of  pure  knowledge  have  no  name. 
Thus  ended  all. 


10 


Mystification 


'Slid,  if  these  be  your  " 
have  none  of  them. 


"  and  "  montantes,"  111 
NED  KNOWLES. 


HE  BARON  RITZNER  VON  JUNG  was  of  a 
noble  Hungarian  family,  every  member  of 
which  (at  least  as  far  back  into  antiquity  as 
any  certain  records  extend)  was  more  or  less  remark 
able  for  talent  of  some  description,  the  majority  for  that 
species  of  grotesquerie  in  conception  of  which  Tieck, 
a  scion  of  the  house,  has  given  a  vivid,  although  by 
no  means  the  most  vivid,  exemplifications.  My  ac 
quaintance  with  Ritzner  commenced  at  the  magnifi 
cent  Chateau  Jung,  into  which  a  train  of  droll 
adventures,  not  to  be  made  public,  threw  me  during 
the  summer  months  of  the  year  18 — .  Here  it  was 
that  I  obtained  a  place  in  his  regard,  and  here,  with 
somewhat  more  difficulty,  a  partial  insight  into  his 
mental  conformation.  In  later  days,  this  insight  grew 
more  clear,  as  the  intimacy  which  had  at  first  permitted 
it  became  more  close;  and  when,  after  three  years 


Mystification 

separation,  we  met  at  G n,  I  knew  all  that  it  was 

necessary  to  know  of  the  character  of  the  Baron 
Ritzner  Von  Jung. 

I  remember  the  buzz  of  curiosity  which  his  advent 
excited  within  the  college  precincts  on  the  night  of  the 
twenty-fifth  of  June.  I  remember  still  more  distinctly 
that  while  he  was  pronounced  by  all  parties  at  first 
sight  "  the  most  remarkable  man  in  the  world,"  no 
person  made  any  attempt  at  accounting  for  his  opinion. 
That  he  was  unique  appeared  so  undeniably  that  it 
was  deemed  impertinent  to  inquire  wherein  the  uni- 
quity  consisted.  But,  letting  this  matter  pass  for  the 
present,  I  will  merely  observe  that,  from  the  first 
moment  of  his  setting  foot  within  the  limits  of  the 
university,  he  began  to  exercise  over  the  habits,  man 
ners,  purses,  and  propensities  of  the  whole  com 
munity  which  surrounded  him,  an  influence  the  most 
extensive  and  despotic,  yet  at  the  same  time  the  most 
indefinite  and  altogether  unaccountable.  Thus  the 
brief  period  of  his  residence  at  the  university  forms 
an  era  in  its  annals,  and  is  characterized  by  all  classes 
of  people  appertaining  to  it  or  its  dependencies  as  "  that 
very  extraordinary  epoch  forming  the  domination  of 
the  Baron  Ritzner  Von  Jung." 

Upon  his  advent  to  G n,  he  sought  me  out  in 

my  apartments.  He  was  then  of  no  particular  age, 
by  which  I  mean  that  it  was  impossible  to  form  a 
guess  respecting  his  age  by  any  data  personally  afforded. 

12 


Mystification 

He  might  have  been  fifteen  or  fifty,  and  was  twenty- 
one  years  and  seven  months.  He  was  by  no  means  a 
handsome  man;  perhaps  the  reverse.  The  contour 
of  his  face  was  somewhat  angular  and  harsh.  His 
forehead  was  lofty  and  very  fair;  his  nose  a  snub; 
his  eyes  large,  heavy,  glassy,  and  meaningless.  About 
the  mouth  there  was  more  to  be  observed.  The  lips 
were  gently  protruded  and  rested  the  one  upon  the 
other,  after  such  fashion  that  it  is  impossible  to  con 
ceive  any,  even  the  most  complex,  combination  of 
features,  conveying  so  entirely  and  so  singly  the  idea 
of  unmitigated  gravity,  solemnity  and  repose. 

It  will  be  perceived,  no  doubt,  from  what  I  have 
Already  said,  that  the  Baron  was  one  of  those  human 
anomalies  now  and  then  to  be  found,  who  make  the 
science  of  mystification  the  study  and  the  business  of 
their  lives.  For  this  science  a  peculiar  turn  of  mind 
jave  him  instinctively  the  cue,  while  his  physical  ap 
pearance  afforded  him  unusual  facilities  for  carrying 
his  projects  into  effect.  I  firmly  believe  that  no 

student  at  G n,  during  that  renowned  epoch  so 

quaintly  termed  the  domination  of  the  Baron  Ritzner 
Von  Jung,  ever  rightly  entered  into  the  mystery  which 
overshadowed  his  character.  I  truly  think  that  no 
person  at  the  university,  with  the  exception  of  myself, 
ever  suspected  him  to  be  capable  of  a  joke,  verbal  or 
practical;  the  old  bull-dog  at  the  garden-gate  would 
sooner  have  been  accused,  the  ghost  of  Heraclitus, 


Mystification 

or  the  wig  of  the  Emeritus  Professor  of  Theology. 
This,  too,  when  it  was  evident  that  the  most  egregious 
and  unpardonable  of  all  conceivable  tricks,  whimsi 
calities,  and  buffooneries  were  brought  about,  if  not 
directly  by  him,  at  least  plainly  through  his  inter 
mediate  agency  or  connivance.  The  beauty,  if  I  may 
so  call  it,  of  his  art  mystique,  lay  in  that  consum 
mate  ability  (resulting  from  an  almost  intuitive 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  and  a  most  wonderful 
self-possession)  by  means  of  which  he  never  failed 
to  make  it  appear  that  the  drolleries  he  was  occupied 
in  bringing  to  a  point  arose  partly  in  spite,  and  partly 
in  consequence  of  the  laudable  efforts  he  was  making 
for  their  prevention,  and  for  the  preservation  of  the 
good  order  and  dignity  of  Alma  Mater.  The  deep,  the 
poignant,  the  overwhelming  mortification,  which  upon 
each  such  failure  of  his  praiseworthy  endeavors  would 
suffuse  every  lineament  of  his  countenance,  left  not 
the  slightest  room  for  doubt  of  his  sincerity  in  the 
bosoms  of  even  his  most  sceptical  companions.  The 
adroitness,  too,  was  no  less  worthy  of  observation  by 
which  he  contrived  to  shift  the  sense  of  the  grotesque 
from  the  creator  to  the  created ;  from  his  own  person 
to  the  absurdities  to  which  he  had  given  rise.  In  no 
instance  before  that  of  which  I  speak  have  I  known 
the  habitual  mystific  escape  the  natural  consequence 
of  his  manoeuvres:  an  attachment  of  the  ludicrous 
to  his  own  character  and  person.  Continually  de- 


Mystification 

veloped  in  an  atmosphere  of  whiin,  my  friend  appeared 
to  live  only  for  the  severities  of  society ;  and  not  even 
his  own  household  have  for  a  moment  associated  other 
ideas  than  those  of  the  rigid  and  august  with  the 
memory  of  the  Baron  Ritzner  Von  Jung. 

During  the  epoch  of  his  residence  at  G n  it  really 

appeared  that  the  demon  of  the  dolce  far  mente  lay 
like  an  incubus  upon  the  university.  Nothing,  at 
least,  was  done  beyond  eating  and  drinking  and  mak 
ing  merry.  The  apartments  of  the  students  were  con 
verted  into  so  many  pot-houses,  and  there  was  no 
pot-house  of  them  all  more  famous  or  more  frequented 
than  that  of  the  Baron.  Our  carousals  here  were 
many,  and  boisterous,  and  long,  and  never  unfruitful 
of  events. 

Upon  one  occasion  we  had  protracted  our  sitting 
until  nearly  daybreak,  and  an  unusual  quantity  of  wine 
had  been  drunk.  The  company  consisted  of  seven  or 
eight  individuals  beside  the  Baron  and  myself.  Most 
of  these  were  young  men  of  wealth,  of  high  connec 
tion,  of  great  family  pride,  and  all  alive  with  an 
exaggerated  sense  of  honor.  They  abounded  in  the 
most  ultra  German  opinions  respecting  the  duello.  To 
these  quixotic  notions  some  recent  Parisian  publica 
tions,  backed  by  three  or  four  desperate  and  fatal 
rencontres  at  G n,  had  given  new  vigor  and  im 
pulse;  and  thus  the  conversation,  during  the  greater 
part  of  the  night,  had  run  wild  upon  the  all-engrossing 


Mystification 

topic  of  the  times.  The  Baron,  who  had  been  un 
usually  silent  and  abstracted  in  the  earlier  portion  oi 
the  evening,  at  length  seemed  to  be  aroused  from  his 
apathy,  took  a  leading  part  in  the  discourse,  and 
dwelt  upon  the  benefits,  and  more  especially  upon  the 
beauties,  of  the  received  code  of  etiquette  in  passages 
of  arms  with  an  ardor,  an  eloquence,  an  impressive- 
ness,  and  an  affectionateness  of  manner  which  elicitec 
the  warmest  enthusiasm  from  his  hearers  in  genera 
and  absolutely  staggered  even  myself,  who  well  kne^ 
him  to  be  at  heart  a  ridiculer  of  those  very  points  fo? 
which  he  contended,  and  especially  to  hold  the  entire 
fanfaronnade  of  duelling  etiquette  in  the  sovereign 
contempt  which  it  deserves. 

Looking  around  me  during  a  pause  in  the  Baron's 
discourse  (of  which  my  readers  may  gather  some  faint 
idea  when  I  say  that  it  bore  resemblance  to  the  fervidj 
chanting,  monotonous,  yet  musical,  sermonic  manner 
of  Coleridge),  I  perceived  symptoms  of  even  more  than 
the  general  interest  in  the  countenance  of  one  of  the 
party.  This  gentleman,  whom  I  shall  call  Hermann,, 
was  an  original  in  every  respect,  except,  perhaps,  in 
the  single  particular  that  he  was  a  very  great  fool. 
He  contrived  to  bear,  however,  among  a  particular  set 
at  the  university,  a  reputation  for  deep  metaphysical 
thinking,  and,  I  believe,  for  some  logical  talent.  As  a 

duellist  he  had  acquired  great  renown,  even  at  G n.r 

I  forget  the  precise  number  of  victims  who  had  fallen 

16 


Mystification 

at  his  hands;  but  they  were  many.  He  was  a  man 
of  courage,  undoubtedly.  But  it  was  upon  his  minute 
acquaintance  with  the  etiquette  of  the  duello,  and  the 
nicety  of  his  sense  of  honor,  that  he  most  especially 
prided  himself.  These  things  were  a  hobby  which  he 
rode  to  the  death.  To  Ritzner,  ever  on  the  lookout 
for  the  grotesque,  his  peculiarities  had  for  a  long  time 
past  afforded  food  for  mystification.  Of  this,  how 
ever,  I  was  not  aware;  although,  hi  the  present 
instance,  I  saw  clearly  that  something  of  a  whimsical 
nature  was  upon  the  tapis  with  my  friend,  and  that 
Hermann  was  its  especial  object. 

As  the  former  proceeded  in  his  discourse,  or  rather 
monologue,  I  perceived  the  excitement  of  the  latter 
momently  increasing.  At  length  he  spoke;  offering 
some  objection  to  a  point  insisted  upon  by  R.,  and 
giving  his  reasons  in  detail.  To  these  the  Baron  re 
plied  at  length  (still  maintaining  his  exaggerated  tone 
of  sentiment)  and  concluding,  in  what  I  thought  very 
bad  taste,  with  a  sarcasm  and  a  sneer.  The  hobby  of 
Hermann  now  took  the  bit  in  his  teeth.  This  I  could 
discern  by  the  studied  hair-splitting  farrago  of  his 
rejoinder.  His  last  words  I  distinctly  remember. 
"  Your  opinions,  allow  me  to  say,  Baron  Von  Jung, 
although  in  the  main  correct,  are,  in  many  nice  points, 
discreditable  to  yourself  and  to  the  university  of  which 
you  are  a  member.  In  a  few  respects  they  are  even 
unworthy  of  serious  refutation.  I  would  say  more 

VOL.  IV.—  2.  j  » 


Mystification 

than  this,  sir,  were  it  not  for  the  fear  of  giving  you 
offence  (here  the  speaker  smiled  blandly) ;  I  would  say, 
sir,  that  your  opinions  are  not  the  opinions  to  be 
expected  from  a  gentleman." 

As  Hermann  completed  this  equivocal  sentence,  all 
eyes  were  turned  upon  the  Baron.  He  became  pale, 
then  excessively  red ;  then,  dropping  his  pocket-hand 
kerchief,  stooped  to  recover  it,  when  I  caught  a  glimpse 
of  his  countenance,  while  it  could  be  seen  by  no  one 
else  at  the  table.  It  was  radiant  with  the  quizzical 
expression  which  was  its  natural  character,  but  which 
I  had  never  seen  it  assume  except  when  we  were  alone 
together,  and  when  he  unbent  himself  freely.  In  an 
instant  afterward  he  stood  erect,  confronting  Hermann ; 
and  so  total  an  alteration  of  countenance  in  so  short 
a  period  I  certainly  never  saw  before.  For  a  moment 
I  even  fancied  that  I  had  misconceived  him,  and  that 
he  was  in  sober  earnest.  He  appeared  to  be  stifling 
with  passion,  and  his  face  was  cadaverously  white. 
For  a  short  time  he  remained  silent,  apparently  striving 
to  master  his  emotion.  Having  at  length  seemingly 
succeeded,  he  reached  a  decanter  which  stood  near 
him,  saying,  as  he  held  it  firmly  clenched,  "  The  lan 
guage  you  have  thought  proper  to  employ,  Mynheer 
Hermann,  in  addressing  yourself  to  me,  is  objectionable 
in  so  many  particulars  that  I  have  neither  temper  nor 
time  for  specification.  That  my  opinions,  however, 
are  not  the  opinions  to  be  expected  from  a  gentleman, 

18 


Mystification 

is  an  observation  so  directly  offensive  as  to  allow  me  but 
one  line  of  conduct.  Some  courtesy,  nevertheless,  is 
due  to  the  presence  of  this  company,  and  to  yourself, 
at  this  moment,  as  my  guest.  You  will  pardon  me, 
therefore,  if,  upon  this  consideration,  I  deviate  slightly 
from  the  general  usage  among  gentlemen  in  similar 
cases  of  personal  affront.  You  will  forgive  me  for  the 
moderate  tax  I  shall  make  upon  your  imagination, 
and  endeavor  to  consider,  for  an  instant,  the  reflection 
of  your  person  in  yonder  mirror  as  the  living  Mynheer 
Hermann  himself.  This  being  done,  there  will  be  no 
difficulty  whatever.  I  shall  discharge  this  decanter  of 
wine  at  your  image  in  yonder  mirror,  and  thus  fulfil  all 
the  spirit,  if  not  the  exact  letter,  of  resentment  for  your 
insult,  while  the  necessity  of  physical  violence  to  your 
real  person  will  be  obviated." 

With  these  words  he  hurled  the  decanter,  full  of 
wine,  against  the  mirror  which  hung  directly  opposite 
Hermann;  striking  the  reflection  of  his  person  with 
great  precision,  and  of  course  shattering  the  glass  into 
fragments.  The  whole  company  at  once  started  to 
their  feet,  and,  with  the  exception  of  myself  and 
Ritzner,  took  their  departure.  As  Hermann  went  out, 
the  Baron  whispered  me  that  I  should  follow  him  and 
make  an  offer  of  my  services.  To  this  I  agreed,  not 
knowing  precisely  what  to  make  of  so  ridiculous  a 
piece  of  business. 

The  duellist  accepted  my  aid  with  his  stiff  and  ultra 


Mystification 

recherche  air,  and,  taking  my  arm,  led  me  to  his  apart 
ment.  I  could  hardly  forbear  laughing  in  his  face 
while  he  proceeded  to  discuss,  with  the  profoundest 
gravity,  what  he  termed  "  the  refinedly  peculiar 
character  "  of  the  insult  he  had  received.  After  a 
tiresome  harangue  in  his  ordinary  style,  he  took  down 
from  his  book  shelves  a  number  of  musty  volumes  on 
the  subject  of  the  duello >  and  entertained  me  for  a 
long  time  with  their  contents;  reading  aloud,  and 
commenting  earnestly  as  he  read.  I  can  just  remem 
ber  the  titles  of  some  of  the  works.  There  were 
the  Ordonnance  of  Philip  le  Bel  on  Single  Combat,  the 
Theatre  of  Honor,  by  Favyn,  and  a  treatise  On  the 
Permission  of  Duels,  by  Andiguier.  He  displayed,  also, 
with  much  pomposity,  Brantome's  Memoirs  of  Duels, 
published  at  Cologne,  1666,  in  the  types  of  Elzevir;  a 
precious  and  unique  vellum-paper  volume,  with  a  fine 
margin,  and  bound  by  Derome.  But  he  requested  my 
attention  particularly,  and  with  an  air  of  mysterious 
sagacity,  to  a  thick  octavo,  written  in  barbarous  Latin, 
by  one  HSdelin,  a  Frenchman,  and  having  the  quaint 
title,  Duelli  Lex  scripta,  et  non  /  aliterque,  From  this 
he  read  me  one  of  the  drollest  chapters  in  the  world 
concerning  Injuriae  per  applicationem,  per  construe* 
tionem,  et  per  se,  about  half  of  which,  he  averred, 
was  strictly  applicable  to  his  own  "  refinedly  peculiar  " 
case,  although  not  one  syllable  of  the  whole  matter 
could  I  understand  for  the  life  of  me.  Having  finished 

20 


Mystification 

the  chapter,  he  closed  the  book,  and  demanded  what  I 
thought  necessary  to  be  done.  I  replied  that  I  had 
entire  confidence  in  his  superior  delicacy  of  feeling, 
and  would  abide  by  what  he  proposed.  With  this 
answer  he  seemed  flattered,  and  sat  down  to  write  a 
note  to  the  Baron.  It  ran  thus : 

"  SIR, — My  friend,  Mr.  P ,  will  hand  you  this  note.     I 

find  it  incumbent  upon  me  to  request,  at  your  earliest  con 
venience,  an  explanation  of  this  evening's  occurrences  at  your 
chambers.  In  the  event  of  your  declining  this  request,  Mr. 
P.  will  be  happy  to  arrange,  with  any  friend  whom  you  may 
appoint,  the  steps  preliminary  to  a  meeting. 

"  With  sentiments  of  perfect  respect, 

"  Your  most  humble  servant, 

"  JOHANN  HERMANN." 
"  To  the  Baron  Ritzner  Von  Jung, 

August  1 8th,  1 8 — ." 

Not  knowing  what  better  to  do,  I  called  upon  Ritzner 
with  this  epistle.  He  bowed  as  I  presented  it;  then, 
with  a  grave  countenance,  motioned  me  to  a  seat. 
Having  perused  the  cartel  he  wrote  the  following  reply, 
which  I  carried  to  Hermann : 

"  SIR, — Through  our  common  friend,  Mr.  P.,  I  have  received 
your  note  of  this  evening.  Upon  due  reflection  I  frankly 
admit  the  propriety  of  the  explanation  you  suggest.  This 
being  admitted,  I  still  find  great  difficulty  (owing  to  the  re* 
tinedly  peculiar  nature  of  our  disagreement,  and  of  the  personal 
affront  offered  on  my  part)  in  so  wording  what  I  have  to  say 
by  way  of  apology,  as  to  meet  all  the  minute  exigencies,  and 

21 


Mystification 

all  the  variable  shadows  of  the  case.  I  have  great  reliance, 
however,  on  that  extreme  delicacy  of  discrimination,  in  matters 
appertaining  to  the  rules  of  etiquette,  for  which  you  have  been 
so  long  and  so  pre-eminently  distinguished.  With  perfect 
certainty,  therefore,  of  being  comprehended,  I  beg  leave,  in 
lieu  of  offering  any  sentiments  of  my  own,  to  refer  you  to  the 
opinions  of  the  Sieur  Hedelin,  as  set  forth  in  the  ninth  para 
graph  of  the  chapter  of  Injuriae  per  applicathnem,  per  cons 
structionem,  et  per  se,  in  his  Duelli  Lex  scripts,  et  non  / 
aliterque,  The  nicety  of  your  discernment  in  all  the  matters 
here  treated,  will  be  sufficient,  I  am  assured,  to  convince  you 
that  the  mere  circumstance  of  me  referring  you  to  this  admir 
able  passage,  ought  to  satisfy  your  request,  as  a  man  of  honor, 
for  explanation. 

"  With  sentiments  of  profound  respect, 

"  Your  most  obedient  servant, 

"  VON  JUNG." 

"  The  Herr  Johann  Hermann, 
August  1 8th,  1 8 — ." 

Hermann  commenced  the  perusal  of  this  epistle  with 
a  scowl,  which,  however,  was  converted  into  a  smile 
of  the  most  ludicrous  self-complacency  as  he  came  to 
the  rigmarole  about  Injurix  per  applicationem,  per 
constructionem,  et  per  se,  Having  finished  reading, 
he  begged  me,  with  the  blandest  of  all  possible  smilesv 
to  be  seated,  while  he  made  reference  to  the  treatise 
in  question.  Turning  to  the  passage  specified,  he  read 
it  with  great  care  to  himself,  then  closed  the  book,  and 
desired  me,  in  my  character  of  confidential  acquaint 
ance^  to  express  to  the  Baron  Von  Jung  his  exalted 

22 


Mystification 

sense  of  his  chivalrous  behavior,  and,  hi  that  of 
second,  to  assure  him  that  the  explanation  offered  was 
of  the  fullest,  the  most  honorable,  and  the  most  un 
equivocally  satisfactory  nature. 

Somewhat  amazed  at  all  this,  I  made  my  retreat  to 
the  Baron.  He  seemed  to  receive  Hermann's  amicable 
letter  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  after  a  few  words  of 
general  conversation,  went  to  an  inner  room  and 
brought  out  the  everlasting  treatise  Duelli  Lex  scripta, 
et  non  /  aliterque.  He  handed  me  the  volume  and 
asked  me  to  look  over  some  portion  of  it.  I  did  so, 
but  to  little  purpose,  not  being  able  to  gather  the  least 
particle  of  meaning.  He  then  took  the  book  himself, 
and  read  me  a  chapter  aloud.  To  my  surprise,  what 
he  read  proved  to  be  a  most  horribly  absurd  account 
of  a  duel  between  two  baboons.  He  now  explained 
the  mystery ;  showing  that  the  volume,  as  it  appeared 
prima  facie,  was  written  upon  the  plan  of  the  non 
sense  verses  of  Du  Bartas ;  that  is  to  say,  the  language 
was  ingeniously  framed  so  as  to  present  to  the  ear  all 
the  outward  signs  of  intelligibility,  and  even  of  pro 
fundity,  while  in  fact  not  a  shadow  of  meaning  existed. 
The  key  to  the  whole  was  found  in  leaving  out  every 
second  and  third  word  alternately,  when  there  appeared 
a  series  of  ludicrous  quizzes  upon  a  single  combat  as 
practised  in  modern  times. 

The  Baron  afterwards  informed  me  that  he  had 
purposely  thrown  the  treatise  hi  Hermann's  way  two 

23 


Mystification 

or  three  weeks  before  the  adventure,  and  that  he  was 
satisfied,  from  the  general  tenor  of  his  conversation, 
that  he  had  studied  it  with  the  deepest  attention,  and 
firmly  believed  it  to  be  a  work  of  unusual  merit. 
Upon  this  hint  he  proceeded.  Hermann  would  have 
died  a  thousand  deaths  rather  than  acknowledge  his 
inability  to  understand  anything  and  everything  hi 
the  universe  that  had  ever  been  written  about  the 
duello, 


Why   the   Little    Frenchman 
Wears  His  Hand  in  a  Sling 


T  JS  on  my  wisiting  cards  sure  enough  (and 
it  *s  them  that 's  all  o'  pink  satin  paper)  that 
inny  gintleman  that  plases  may  behould 
the  intheristhin  words,  "  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison, 
Barronitt,  39  Southampton  Row,  Russell  Square, 
Parrish  o'  Bloomsbury."  And  shud  ye  be  wantin*  to 
diskiver  who  is  the  pink  of  purliteness  quite, (and  the 
laider  of  the  hot  tun  hi  the  houl  city  o'  Lonony  why 
it 's  jist  mesilf.  And,  fait,  that  same  is  no  wonder  at 
all  at  all  (so  be  plased  to  stop  curlin'  your  nose),  for 
every  inch  o'  the  six  wakes  that  I  've  been  a  gintle 
man,  and  left  aff  wid  the  bog-throthing  to  take  up 
wid  the  Barronissy,  it 's  Pathrick  that 's  been  living 
like  a  houly  imperor,  and  gitting  the  iddication  .and 
the  graces.  [  Och !  and  would  n't  it  be  a  blessed  thing 
for  your  sperrits  if  ye  cud  lay  your  two  peepers  jist 
upon  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Barronitt,  when  he  is 
all  riddy  drissed  for  the  hopperer,  or  stipping  into 

25 


His  Hand  in  a  Sling 

the  Brisky  for  the  drive  into  the  Hyde  Park.  But  it 's 
the  illigant  big  figgur  that  I  'ave,  for  the  rason  o* 
which  all  the  ladies  fall  in  love  wid  me.  Is  n't  it  my 
own  swate  silf  now  that  '11  missure  the  six  fut,  and  the 
three  inches  more  nor  that,  in  me  stockings,  and  that 
am  excadingly  will-proportioned  all  over  to  match  ? 
And  is  it  ralelly  more  than  three  fut  and  a  bit  that 
there  is,  innyhow,  of  the  little  ould  furrener  Frinch- 
man  that  lives  jist  over  the  way,  and  that 's  a  oggling 
and  a  goggling  the  houl  day  (and  bad  luck  to  him) 
at  the  purty  widdy  Misthress  Trade  that  's  my  own 
nixt-door  neighbor  (God  bliss  her!)  and  a  most  par- 
ticuller  frind  and  acquaintance  ?  You  percave  the 
little  spalpeen  is  summat  down  in  the  mouth,  and 
wears  his  lift  hand  in  a  sling ;  and  it 's  for  that  same 
thing,  by  yur  lave,  that  I  'm  going  to  give  you  the 
good  rason. 

The  truth  of  the  houl  matter  is  jist  simple  enough ; 
for  the  very  first  day  that  I  com'd  from  Connaught, 
J  and  showd  my  swate  little  silf  in  the  strait  to  thel 
I  widdy,  who  was  looking  through  the  windy|  it  was  aj 
gone  case  althegither  wid  the  heart  o'  the  purty 
Misthress  Trade.  I  percaved  it,  lye  see,  all  at  once, 
and  no  mistake,  and  that 's  God's  thruth.  First  of  all 
it  was  up  wid  the  windy  in  a  jiffy,  and  thin  she  threw 
open  her  two  peepers  to  the  itmost,  and  thin  it  was  a 
little  gould  spy-glass  that  she  clapped  tight  to  one  o9 
them,  and  divil  may  burn  me  if  it  did  n't  spake  to  me 

26 


His  Hand  in  a  Sling 

as  plain  as  a  peeper  cud  spake,  and  says  it,  through 
the  spy-glass,  "  Och!  the  tip  o'  the  mornin'  to  ye, 
Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Barronitt,  mavourneen ;  and 
it 's  a  nate  gintleman  that  ve  are,  sure  enoughj  and 
it 's  mesilf  and  me  f orten  jistVhat  '11  be  at  yur  sarvice, 
dear,  inny  time  o'  day  at  all  at  all  for  the  asking." 
it  's  not  mesilf  ye  wud  have  to  be  bate  hi  the 
iteness ;]  so  I  made  her  a  bow  that  wud  ha'  broken 
yur  heart  althegither  to  behould,  and  thin  I  pulled  aff 
me  hat  with  a  flourish,  and  thin  I  winked  at  her  hard 
wid  both  eyes,  as  much  as  to  say :  "  Thrue  for  you,  yer 
a  swate  little  crature,  Mistress  Trade,  me  darlint,  and 
I  wish  I  may  be  drownthed  dead  in  a  bog,  if  it 's  not 
mesilf,  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Barronitt,  that  '11 
make  a  houl  bushel  o'  love  to  yer  leddyship,  in  the 
twinkling  o'  the  eye  of  a  Londonderry  purraty." 

And  it  was  the  nixt  mornin',  sure,  jist  as  I  was 
making  up  me  mind  whither  it  would  n't  be  the  purlite 
thing  to  sind  a  bit  o'  writin'  to  the  widdy  by  way  of  a 
love-litter,  when  up  com'd  the  delivery  sarvant  wid  an 
illigant  card,  and  he  tould  me  that  the  name  on  it/(for 
I  niver  cud  rade  the  copper-plate  printin'  on  account 
of  being  lift-handedJ  was  all  about  Mounseer,  the 
Count,  A  Goose,  Look-aisy,  Maiter-di-dauns,  and  that 
the  houl  of  the  divilish  lingo  was  the  spalpeeny  long 
name  of  the  little  ould  furrener  Frinchman  as  lived 
over  the  way. 

And  jist  wid  that  in  cum'd  the  little  willain  himself, 
27 


His  Hand  in  a  Sling 

and  thin  he  made  me  a  broth  of  a  bow,  and  thin  he 
said  he  had  ounly  taken  the  liberty  of  doing  me  the 
honor  of  the  giving  me  a.  call,)  and  thin  he  went  on 
to  palaver  at  a  great  rate,  and  divil  the  bit  did  I  com- 
prehind  what  he  wud  be  afther  the  tilling  me  at  all  at 
all,  excipting  and  saving  that  he  said  "  Fully  wou, 
woolly  wou,"  and  tould  me,  among  a  bushel  oj  lies, 
bad  luck  to  him,  that  he  was  mad  for  the  love  o'  my 
widdy  Misthress  Trade,  and  that  my  widdy  Mistress 
Trade  had  a  puncheon  for  him* 

At  the  hearin*  of  this,  ye  may  swear,  though,  I  was\ 

mad  as  a  grasshopper,  but  I  remimbered  that  I  was 
Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Barronitt,  and  that  it  was  n't 
althegither  gentaal  to  lit  the  anger  git  the  upper  hand 
o'  the  purliteness,  so  I  made  light  o'  the  matter  and 
kipt  dark,  and  got  quite  sociable  wid  the  little  chap, 
and  afther  a  while  what  did  he  do  but  ask  me  to  go  wid 
him  to  the  widdy's,  saying  he  wud  give  me  the  feshion- 
able  inthroduction  to  her  leddyship. 

"  Is  it  there  ye  are  ?  "  said  I  thin  to  mesilf,  "  and 
it 's  thrue  for  you,  Pathrick,  that  ye  're  the  fortunittest 
mortal  in  life.  We  '11  soon  see  now  whither  it 's  your 
swate  silf ,  or  whither  it 's  little  Mounseer  Maiter-di^- 
dauns,  that  Misthress  Trade  is  head  and  ears  in  the 
love  wid." 

Wid  that  we  wint  off  to  the  widdy's,  next  door, 

ye^  may  wglL&a%,jtjvas  an  illigant j)lacei/so  it  was. 

f  There  was  a  carpet  all  over  the  floor,  and  in  one  corner 

\  28 


His  Hand  in  a  Sling 

thep  was  a  forty-pinny  and  a  jews-harp  and  the  divil 
knows  what  ilse,  and  in  another  corner  was  a  sofy,  the 
beautifullest  thing  in  all  natur,  and  sitting  on  the  sofy, 
[sure  enough,  there  was  the  swate  little  angel,  Misthress 
TracTe. 

"  The  tip  *o  the  mornin'  to  ye,"  says  I,  "  Mistress 
Trade,"  and  thin  I  made  sich  an   illigant  obaysance  \ 
that  it  wud  ha  quite  althegither  bewildered  the  brain  ) 
o*  ye. 

'  "  Wully  woo,  pully  woo,  plump  in  the  mud,"  says 
the  little  furrenner  Frinchman,  "  and  sure  Mistress 
Trade,"  says  he,  that  he  did,  "  is  n't  this  gintleman 
here  jist  his  riverence  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Bar- 
ronitt,  and  is  n't  he  althegither  and  entirely  the  most 
purticular  frind  and  acquaintance  that  I  have  in  the 
houl  world  ?  " 

And  wid  that  the  widdy,  she  gits  up  from  the  sofy, 
and  makes  the  swatest  curtchy  nor  iver  was  seen ;  and 
thin  down  she  sits  like  an  angel;  and  thin,  by  the 
powers,  it  was  that  little  spalpeen  Mounseer  Maiter- 
di-dauns  that  plumped  his  silf  right  down  by  the  right 
side  of  her.  Och  hon!  I  ixpicted  the  two  eyes  oj  me 
wud  ha  cum'd  out  of  my  head  on  the  spot,  I  was  so 
disperate  mad!  Howiver,  "  Bait  who!  "  says  I,  after 
a  while.  /"  Is  it  there  ye  are,  Mounseer  Maiter-di- ) 
dauns  ?  "  and  so  down  I  plumped  on  the  lift  side  of 
her  leddyship,  to  be  aven  with  the  willain.  Bothera 
tion!  it  wud  ha  done  your  heart  good  to  percave  the 

29 


His  Hand  in  a  Sling 

illigant  double  wink  that  I  gived  her  jist  thin  right  in 
the  face  wid  both  eyes. 

But  the  little  ould  Frinchman  he  niver  beginned  to 
suspict  me  at  all  at  all,  and  disperate  hard  it  was  he 
made  the  love  to  her  leddyship.  f  "  Woully  wou,"  says 

/  he,  "  Fully  wou,"  says  he,  "  Plump  in  the  mud," 

Vsays  he. 

"  That 's  all  to  no  use,  Mounseer  Frog,  mavour- 
neen,"  thinks  I;  and  I  talked  as  hard  and  as  fast  as 
I  could  all  the  while,  and  throth  it  was  mesilf  jist  that 
divarted  her  leddyship  complately  and  intirely,  by 
rason  of  the  illigant  conversation  that  I  kipt  up  wid 
her  all  about  the  dear  bogs  of  Connaught.  And  by 
and  by  she  gived  me  such  a  swate  smile,  from  one 
ind  of  her  mouth  to  the  ither,  that  it  made  me  as 
bould  as  a  pig,  and  I  jist  took  hould  of  the  ind  of 
her  little  finger  in  the  most  dilikittest  manner  in  na- 
tur,  looking  at  her  all  the  while  out  o*  the  whites  of 
my  eyes. 

And  then  ounly  percave  the  cuteness  of  the  swate 
angel,  for  no  sooner  did  she  observe  that  I  was  afther 
the  squazing  of  her  nipper,  than  she  up  wid  it  in  a  jiffy, 
and  put  it  away  behind  her  back/  jist  as  much  as  to 
say,  "  Now  thin,  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  there  's  a 
bitther  chance  for  ye,  mavourneen,  for  it  Js  not  alto 
gether  the  gentaal  thing  to  be  afther  the  squazing  of 
my  flipper  right  full  in  the  sight  of  the  little  furrenner 
^Frinchman,  Mounseer  Maiter-di-dauns." 

30 


r 


His  Hand  in  a  Sling 

Wid  that  I  giv'd  her  a  big  wink  jist  to  say,  "  Lit  Sit  ''*< 
Pathrick  alone  for  the  likes  o'  them  thricks,"  and  thin j 
I  wint  aisy  to  work,  and  you  'd  have  died  wid  the  divar- 
sion  to  behould  how  cliverly  I  slipped  my  right  arm 
betwane  the  back  o'  the  sofy  and  the  back  of  her 
leddyship,  and  there,  sure  enough,  I  found  a  swate  little 
flipper  all  awaiting  to  say,  "  The  tip  o'  the  mornin* 
to  ye3  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandison,  Barronitt."  And 
was  n't  it  mesilf,  sure,  that  jist  giv'd  it  the  laste  little 
bit  of  a  squaze  hi  the  world,  all  in  the  way  of  a  com- 
mincement,  and  not  to  be  too  rough  wid  her  leddy 
ship  ?  and  och,  botheration,  was  n't  it  the  gentaalest 
and  dilikittest  of  all  the  little  squazes  that  I  got  in 
return  ?f  "  Blood  and  thunder,  Sir  Pathrick,  mavour- 
neen,"  thinks  I  to  myself,  "  fait  it  's  jist  the  mother's^ 
son  of  you,  and  nobody  else  at  all  at  all,  triat  's  the  \ 
handsomest  and  the  fortunittest  young  bog-throtter 
that  ever  cum'd  out  of  Connaught!  "  And  wid  that 
I  giv'd  the  nipper  a  big  squaze,  and  a  big  squaze  it 
was,  by  the  powers,  that  her  leddyship  giv'd  to  me  back.  J 
But  it  would  ha  split  the  seven  sides  of  you  wid  the 
laffin'  to  behould,  jist  then  all  at  once,  the  consated 
behavior  of  Mounseer  Maiter-di-dauns.  The  likes  os 
sich  a  jabbering,  and  a  smirking,  and  a  parly- wouing 
as  he  begin'd  wid  her  leddyship,  niver  was  known  be 
fore  upon  arth ;  and  the  divil  may  burn  me  if  it  was  n't 
me  own  very  two  peepers  that  cotch'd  him  tipping 
her  the  wink  out  of  one  eye.  Och  hon!  if  it  was  n't 


His  Hand  in  a  Sling 

mesilf  thin  that  was  mad  as  a  Kilkenny  cat  I  shud  like 
to  be-tould  who  it  was! 

"  Let  me  infarm  you,  Mounseer  Maiter-dl  dauns," 
said  I,  as  purlite  as  iver  ye  seed,  "  that  it  's  not  the 
gintaal  thing  at  all  at  all,  and  not  for  the  likes  oj  you 
innyhow,  to  be  afther  the  oggling  and  a  goggling  at 
her  leddyship  in  that  fashion,"  and  jist  wid  that  such 
another  squaze  as  it  was  I  giv'd  her  flipper,  all  as 
much  as  to  say,  "  Is  n't  it  Sir  Pathrick  now,  my 
jewel,  that  '11  be  able  to  the  protectin'  o'  you,  my 
darlint_?J)  and  then  there  cum'd  another  squaze  back, 
all^by^  way  of  the  answer.^ "  Thrue  for  you,  Sir 
'  Pathrick,"  it  said  as  plain  as  iver  a  squaze  said  in  the 
world,  "  Thrue  for  you,  Sir  Pathrick,  mavpurneen, 
and  it  Js  a  proper  nate  gintleman  ye  are,  that 's  God's 
thruth,"/and  with  that  she  opened  her  two  beautiful 
peepers  till  I  belaved  they  wud  ha'  com'd  out  of  her 
hid  althegither  and  intirely,  and  she  looked  first  as  mad 
as  a  cat  at  Mounseer  Frog,  and  thin  as  smiling  as  all 
out  o'  doors  at  mesilf. 

"Thin,"  says  he,  the  willain,  "  Och  hon!  and  a 
wolly  wou,  pully  wou,"  and  wid  that  he  shoved  up 
his  two  shoulders  till  the  divil  the  bit  of  his  hid  was  to 
be  diskivered,  and  then  he  let  down  the  two  corners  of 
his  purraty-trap,  and  thin  not  a  haporth  more  of  the 
^  satisfaction  could  I  git  out  o'  the  spalpeen. 

Belave  me,  my  jewel,  it  was  Sir  Pathrick  that  was 
unreasonable  mad  thin,  and  the  more  by  token 

32 


His  Hand  in  a  Sling 

that  the  Frinchman  kipt  an  wid  his  winking  at  the 
widdy;  and  the  widdy  she  kipt  an  wid  the  squazing 
of  my  flipper,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  At  him  again,  Sir 
Pathrick  O'Grandison,  mavourneen  " ;  so  I  just  ripped 
out  wid  a  big  oath,  and  says  I, 

"  Ye  little  spalpeeny  frog  of  a  bog-throtting  son  of  a 
bloody  noun !  "  and  jist  thin  what  d'  ye  think  it  was  that 
her  leddyship  did  ?  Troth  she  jumped  up  from  the 
sofy  as  if  she  was  bit,  and  made  off  through  the  door, 
while  I  turned  my  head  round  afther  her,  in  a  com 
plete  bewilderment  and  botheration,  and  followed  her 
wid  me  two  peepers.  You  percave  I  had  a  reason  of 
my  own  for  knowing  that  she  could  n't  git  down  the 
stares  althegither  and  intirely;  for  I  knew  very  well 
that  I  had  hould  of  her  hand,  for  divil  the  bit  had  I 
iver  lit  it  go.  And  says  I, 

"  Is  n't  it  the  laste  little  bit  of  a  mistake  in  the  world 
that  ye  've  been  afther  the  making,  yer  leddyship  ? 
Come  back  now,  that 's  a  darlint,  and  I  '11  give  ye  yer 
flipper."  Buf  aff  she  wint  down  the  stares  like  a  shot, 
and  thin  I  turned  round  to  the  little  Frinch  furrenner. 
Och  hon !  if  it  was  n't  his  spalpeeny  little  paw  that  I 
had  hould  of  in  my  own,  why  thin — thin  it  wasn't, 
that  Js  all. 

And  maybe  it  was  n't  mesilf  that  jist  died  then  out 
right  wid  the  laffin',  to  behold  the  little  chap  when  he 
found  out  that  it  was  n't  the  widdy  at  all  at  all  that  he 
had  hould  of  all  the  time,  but  only  Sir  Pathrick 

VOI..IV.-3. 


His  Hand  in  a  Sling 

Q'Grandison.  The  ould  divil  himself  niver  behild  sich 
a  long  face  as  he  pet  an !  As  for  Sir  Pathrick  O'Grandi- 
son,  Barronitt,  it  was  n't  for  the  likes  of  his  riverence 
to  be  afther  the  minding  of  a  thrifle  of  a  mistake. 
Ye  may  jist  say  though  (for  it 's  God's  thruth),  that 
afore  I  left  hould  of  the  flipper  of  the  spalpeen  (which 
was  not  till  afther  her  leddy ship's  futman  had  kicked 
us  both  down  the  stares),  I  gived  it  such  a  nate  little 
broth  of  a  squaze,  as  made  it  all  up  into  a  raspberry 
jam. 

"  Wouly  wou,"  said  he,  "  pully  wou,"  says  he ;  "Cot 
tarn!" 

And  that 's  jist  the  thruth  of  the  rason  why  he  wears 
his  lift  hand  in  a  sling. 


34 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

BEING  AN  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  FIRST  PASSAGE  ACROSS 

THE  ROCKY  MOUNTAINS  OF  NORTH  AMERICA 

EVER  ACHIEVED    BY  CIVILIZED  MAN 


CHAPTER  I 
INTRODUCTORY 


HAT  we  must  consider  an  unusual  piece  of 
good  fortune  has  enabled  us  to  present 
our  readers,  under  this  head,  with  a  narra 
tive  of  very  remarkable  character,  and  certainly  of 
very  deep  interest.  The  Journal  which  follows  not 
only  embodies  a  relation  of  the  first  successful  attempt 
to  cross  the  gigantic  barriers  of  that  immense  chain  of 
mountains  which  stretches  from  the  Polar  Sea  in  the 
north  to  the  Isthmus  of  Darien  in  the  south,  forming 
a  craggy  and  snow-capped  rampart  throughout  its 
whole  course,  but,  what  is  of  still  greater  importance, 
gives  the  particulars  of  a  tour,  beyond  these  mountains, 
through  an  immense  extent  of  territory,  which,  at  this 

35 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

day,  is  looked  upon  as  totally  untravelled  and  unknown, 
and  which,  in  every  map  of  the  country  to  which  we 
can  obtain  access,  is  marked  as  "  an  unexplored  re 
gion."  It  is,  moreover,  the  only  unexplored  region 
within  the  limits  of  the  continent  of  North  America. 
Such  being  the  case,  our  friends  will  know  how  to 
pardon  us  for  the  slight  amount  of  unction  with  which 
we  have  urged  this  Journal  upon  the  public  attention. 
For  our  own  parts,  we  have  found,  in  its  perusal,  a 
degree  and  a  species  of  interest  such  as  no  similar 
narrative  ever  inspired.  Nor  do  we  think  that  our 
relation  to  these  papers,  as  the  channel  through  which 
they  will  be  first  made  known,  has  had  more  than  a 
moderate  influence  in  begetting  this  interest.  We  feel 
assured  that  all  our  readers  will  unite  with  us  in  think 
ing  the  adventures  here  recorded  unusually  entertain 
ing  and  important.  The  peculiar  character  of  the 
gentleman  who  was  the  leader  and  soul  of  the  ex 
pedition,  as  well  as  its  historian,  has  imbued  what  he 
has  written  with  a  vast  deal  of  romantic  fervor,  very 
different  from  the  lukewarm  and  statistical  air  which 
prevades  most  records  of  the  kind.  Mr.  James  E; 
Rodman,  from  whom  we  obtained  the  MS.,  is  well 
known  to  many  of  the  readers  of  this  magazine ;  and 
partakes,  in  some  degree,  of  that  temperament  which 
embittered  the  earlier  portion  of  the  life  of  his  grand 
father,  Mr.  Julius  Rodman,  the  writer  of  the  narrative. 
We  allude  to  an  hereditary  hypochondria.  It  was  the 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

instigation  of  this  disease  which,  more  than  anything 
else,  led  him  to  attempt  the  extraordinary  journey  here 
detailed.  The  hunting  and  trapping  designs,  of  which 
he  speaks  himself,  in  the  beginning  of  his  Journal, 
were,  as  far  as  we  can  perceive,  but  excuses  made  to 
his  own  reason  for  the  audacity  and  novelty  of  his 
attempt.  There  can  be  no  doubt,  we  think  (and  our 
readers  will  think  with  us),  that  he  was  urged  solely  by 
a  desire  to  seek,  in  the  bosom  of  the  wilderness,  that 
peace  which  his  peculiar  disposition  would  not  suffer 
him  to  enjoy  among  men.  He  fled  to  the  desert  as 
to  a  friend.  In  no  other  view  of  the  case  can  we 
reconcile  many  points  of  his  record  with  our  ordinary 
notions  of  human  action. 

As  we  have  thought  proper  to  omit  two  pages  of  the 
MS.,  in  which  Mr.  Rodman  gives  some  account  of  his 
life  previous  to  his  departure  up  the  Missouri,  it  may  be 
as  well  to  state  here  that  he  was  a  native  of  England, 
where  his  relatives  were  of  excellent  standing,  where 
he  had  received  a  good  education,  and  from  which 
country  he  emigrated  to  this,  in  1784  (being  then 
about  eighteen  years  of  age),  with  his  father  and  two 
maiden  sisters.  The  family  first  settled  in  New  York ; 
but  afterwards  made  their  way  to  Kentucky,  and 
established  themselves,  almost  in  hermit  fashion,  on 
the  banks  of  the  Mississippi  near  where  Mills'  Point 
now  makes  into  the  river.  Here  old  Mr.  Rodman 
died,  in  the  fall  of  1790;  and,  in  the  ensuing  winter, 

11 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

both  his  daughters  perished  of  the  small-pox,  within 
a  few  weeks  of  each  other.  Shortly  afterwards  (in 
the  spring  of  1791),  Mr.  Julius  Rodman,  the  son,  set 
out  upon  the  expedition  which  forms  the  subject  of 
the  following  pages.  Returning  from  this  in  1794, 
as  hereinafter  stated,  he  took  up  his  abode  near 
Abingdon,  in  Virginia,  where  he  married,  and  had 
three  children,  and  where  most  of  his  descendants 
now  live. 

We  are  informed  by  Mr.  James  Rodman  that  his 
grandfather  had  merely  kept  an  outline  diary  of  his 
tour,  during  the  many  difficulties  of  its  progress;  and 
that  the  MSS.  with  which  we  have  been  furnished 
were  not  written  out  in  detail,  from  that  diary,  until 
many  years  afterwards,  when  the  tourist  was  induced 
to  undertake  the  task,  at  the  instigation  of  M.  Andre* 
Michau,  the  botanist,  and  author  of  the  Flora  Boreali' 
Americana,  and  of  the  Histoire  des  Chenes  d'Amerique, 
M.  Michau,  it  will  be  remembered,  had  made  an  offer 
of  his  services  to  Mr.  Jefferson,  when  that  statesman 
first  contemplated  sending  an  expedition  across  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  He  was  engaged  to  prosecute  the 
journey,  and  had  even  proceeded  on  his  way  as  far  as 
Kentucky,  when  he  was  overtaken  by  an  order  from 
the  French  Minister,  then  at  Philadelphia,  requiring 
him  to  relinquish  the  design,  and  to  pursue  elsewhere 
the  botanical  inquiries  on  which  he  was  employed  by 
his  government.  The  contemplated  undertaking  then 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

fell  into  the  hands  of  Messieurs  Lewis  and  Clarke,  by 
whom  it  was  successfully  accomplished. 

The  MS.  when  completed,  however,  never  reached 
M.  Michau,  for  whose  inspection  it  had  been  drawn 
up ;  and  was  always  supposed  to  have  been  lost  on  the 
road  by  the  young  man  to  whom  it  was  entrusted  for 
delivery  at  M.  Michau's  temporary  residence,  near 
Monticello.  Scarcely  any  attempt  was  made  to  recover 
the  papers ;  Mr.  Rodman's  peculiar  disposition  leading 
him  to  take  but  little  interest  in  the  search.  Indeed, 
strange  as  it  may  appear,  we  doubt,  from  what  we  are 
told  of  him,  whether  he  would  have  ever  taken  any 
steps  to  make  public  the  results  of  his  most  extraordi 
nary  tour;  we  think  that  his  only  object  in  retouching 
his  original  Diary  was  to  oblige  M.  Michau.  Even  Mr. 
Jefferson's  exploring  project,  a  project  which,  at  the 
time  it  was  broached,  excited  almost  universal  com 
ment,  and  was  considered  a  perfect  novelty,  drew  from 
the  hero  of  our  narrative  only  a  few  general  observa 
tions,  addressed  to  the  members  of  his  family.  He 
never  made  his  own  journey  a  subject  of  conversation ; 
seeming,  rather,  to  avoid  the  topic.  He  died  before  the 
return  of  Lewis  and  Clarke ;  and  the  Diary,  which  had 
been  given  into  the  hands  of  the  messenger  for  de 
livery  to  M.  Michau,  was  found,  about  three  months 
ago,  in  a  secret  drawer  of  a  bureau  which  had  belonged 
to  Mr.  Julius  Rodman.  We  do  not  learn  by  whom  it 
was  placed  there ;  Mr.  Rodman's  relatives  all  exonerate 

39 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

him  from  the  suspicion  of  having  secreted  it;  but, 
without  intending  any  disrespect  to  the  memory  of  that 
gentleman,  or  to  Mr.  James  Rodman  (to  whom  we  feel 
under  especial  obligation),  we  cannot  help  thinking 
that  the  supposition  of  the  narrator's  having,  by  some 
means,  reprocured  the  package  from  the  messenger, 
and  concealed  it  where  it  was  discovered,  is  very 
reasonable,  and  not  at  all  out  of  keeping  with  the 
character  of  that  morbid  sensibility  which  distin 
guished  the  individual. 

We  did  not  wish,  by  any  means,  to  alter  the  manner 
of  Mr.  Rodman's  narration,  and  have,  therefore,  taken 
very  few  liberties  with  the  MS.,  and  these  few  only  in 
the  way  of  abridgment.  The  style,  indeed,  could 
scarcely  be  improved ;  it  is  simple  and  very  effective ; 
giving  evidence  of  the  deep  delight  with  which  the 
traveller  revelled  in  the  majestic  novelties  through 
which  he  passed,  day  after  day.  There  is  a  species  of 
affectionateness  which  pervades  his  account,  even  of 
the  severest  hardships  and  dangers,  which  lets  us  at  once 
into  the  man's  whole  idiosyncrasy.  He  was  possessed 
with  a  burning  love  of  nature;  and  worshipped  her, 
perhaps,  more  in  her  dreary  and  savage  aspects,  than  in 
her  manifestations  of  placidity  and  joy.  He  stalked 
through  that  immense  and  often  terrible  wilderness 
with  an  evident  rapture  at  his  heart  which  we  envy 
him  as  we  read.  He  was,  indeed,  the  man  to  journey 
amid  all  that  solemn  desolation  which  he,  plainly,  so 

40 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

loved  to  depict.  His  was  the  proper  spirit  to  perceive ; 
his  the  true  ability  to  feel.  We  look,  therefore,  upon 
his  MS.  as  a  rich  treasure,  in  its  way  absolutely  un 
surpassed,  indeed,  never  equalled. 

That  the  events  of  this  narrative  have  hitherto  lain 
perdus  /  that  even  the  fact  of  the  Rocky  Mountains 
having  been  crossed  by  Mr.  Rodman  prior  to  the  expe 
dition  of  Lewis  and  Clarke  has  never  been  made 
public,  or  at  all  alluded  to  in  the  works  of  any  writer 
on  American  geography  (for  it  certainly  never  has 
been  thus  alluded  to,  as  far  as  we  can  ascertain),  must 
be  regarded  as  very  remarkable — indeed,  as  exceedingly 
strange.  The  only  reference  to  the  journey  at  all,  of 
which  we  can  hear  in  any  direction,  is  said  to  be  con 
tained  in  an  unpublished  letter  of  M.  Michau's  in  the 
possession  of  Mr.  W.  Wyatt,  of  Charlottesville,  Vir 
ginia.  It  is  there  spoken  of  in  a  casual  way,  and 
collaterally,  as  "  a  gigantic  idea  wonderfully  carried 
out."  If  there  has  been  any  further  allusion  to  the 
journey,  we  know  nothing  of  it. 

Before  entering  upon  Mr.  Rodman's  own  relation, 
it  will  not  be  improper  to  glance  at  what  has  been 
done  by  others,  in  the  way  of  discovery,  upon  the 
northwestern  portion  of  our  continent.  If  the  reader 
will  turn  to  a  map  of  North  America,  he  will  be  better 
enabled  to  follow  us  in  our  observations. 

It  will  be  seen  that  the  continent  extends  from  the 
Arctic  Ocean,  or  from  about  the  yoth  parallel  of  north 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

latitude,  to  the  gth ;  and  from  the  56th  meridian  west 
of  Greenwich  to  the  i68th.  The  whole  of  this  im 
mense  extent  of  territory  has  been  visited  by  civilized 
man,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree;  and  indeed  a  very 
large  portion  of  it  has  been  permanently  settled.  But 
there  is  an  exceedingly  wide  tract  which  is  still  marked 
upon  all  our  maps  as  "  unexplored,"  and  which,  until 
this  day,  has  always  been  so  considered.  This  tract 
lies  within  the  6oth  parallel  on  the  south,  the  Arctic 
Ocean  on  the  north,  the  Rocky  Mountains  on  the 
east,  and  the  possessions  of  Russia  on  the  west.  To 
Mr.  Rodman,  however,  belongs  the  honor  of  having 
traversed  this  singularly  wild  region  in  many  direc 
tions  ;  and  the  most  interesting  particulars  of  the  nar 
rative  now  published  have  reference  to  his  adventures 
and  discoveries  therein. 

Perhaps  the  earliest  travels  of  any  extent  made  in 
North  America  by  white  people  were  those  of  Henne- 
pin  and  his  friends,  in  1698 ;  but  as  his  researches  were 
mostly  in  the  south,  we  do  not  feel  called  upon  to 
speak  of  them  more  fully. 

Mr.  Irving,  in  his  Astoria,  mentions  the  attempt  of 
Captain  Jonathan  Carver  as  being  the  first  ever  made 
to  cross  the  continent  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific 
Ocean ;  but  in  this  he  appears  to  be  mistaken ;  for  we 
find,  in  one  of  the  journals  of  Sir  Alexander  Mackenzie, 
that  two  different  enterprises  were  set  on  foot,  with 
that  especial  object  in  view,  by  the  Hudson  Bay  Fur 

42 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

Company,  the  one  in  1758,  the  other  as  early  as  1749; 
both  of  which  are  supposed  to  have  entirely  failed,  as 
no  accounts  of  the  actual  expeditions  are  extant.  It 
was  in  1763,  shortly  after  the  acquisition  of  the 
Canadas  by  Great  Britain,  that  Captain  Carver  under 
took  the  journey.  His  intention  was  to  cross  the 
country  between  the  forty-third  and  forty-sixth  de 
grees  of  north  latitude,  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific. 
His  object  was  to  ascertain  the  breadth  of  the  conti 
nent  at  its  broadest  part,  and  to  determine  upon  some 
place,  on  the  western  coast,  where  Government  might 
establish  a  post  to  facilitate  the  discovery  of  a  north 
west  passage,  or  a  communication  between  Hudson's 
Bay  and  the  Pacific  Ocean.  He  had  supposed  that  the 
Columbia,  then  termed  the  Oregon,  disembogued  itself 
somewhere  about  the  straits  of  Annian;  and  it  was 
here  that  he  expected  the  post  to  be  formed.  He 
thought,  also,  that  a  settlement  in  this  neighborhood 
would  disclose  new  sources  of  trade,  and  open  a  more 
direct  communication  with  China  and  the  British 
possessions  in  the  East  Indies  than  the  old  route 
afforded,  by  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope.  He  was  baffled, 
however,  in  his  attempt  to  cross  the  mountains. 

In  point  of  time,  the  next  important  expedition,  in 
the  northern  portion  of  America,  was  that  of  Samuel 
Hearne,  who,  with  the  object  of  discovering  copper 
mines,  pushed  northwestwardly  during  the  years  1769, 
'70,  '71,  and  '72,  from  the  Prince  of  Wales'  Fort,  in 

43 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

Hudson's  Bay,  as  far  as  the  shores  of  the  Arctic 
Ocean. 

We  have,  after  this,  to  record  a  second  attempt  of 
Captain  Carver's,  which  was  set  on  foot  in  1774,  and 
in  which  he  was  joined  by  Richard  Whitworth,  a 
member  of  Parliament  and  a  man  of  wealth.  We  only 
notice  this  enterprise  on  account  of  the  extensive  scale 
on  which  it  was  projected ;  for  in  fact  it  was  never 
carried  into  execution.  The  gentlemen  were  to  take 
with  them  fifty  or  sixty  men,  artificers  and  mariners, 
and,  with  these,  make  their  way  up  one  of  the  branches 
of  the  Missouri,  explore  the  mountains  for  the  source 
of  the  Oregon,  and  sail  down  that  river  to  its  supposed 
mouth,  near  the  straits  of  Annian.  Here  a  fort  was 
to  be  built,  as  well  as  vessels  for  the  purpose  of  further 
discovery.  The  undertaking  was  stopped  by  the  break 
ing  out  of  the  American  Revolution. 

As  early  as  1775  the  fur  trade  had  been  carried  by 
the  Canadian  missionaries,  north  and  west  to  the  banks 
of  the  Saskatchawine  River,  in  53  north  latitude,  102 
west  longitude;  and,  in  the  beginning  of  1776,  Mr. 
Joseph  Frobisher  proceeded  in  this  direction  as  far 
as  55  N.  and  103  W. 

In  1778,  Mr.  Peter  Bond,  with  four  canoes,  pushed 
on  to  the  Elk  River,  about  thirty  miles  south  of  its 
junction  with  the  Lake  of  the  Hills. 

We  have  now  to  mention  another  attempt,  which 
was  baffled  at  its  very  outset,  to  cross  the  broadest 

44 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

portion  of  the  continent  from  ocean  to  ocean.  This 
attempt  is  scarcely  known  by  the  public  to  have  been 
made  at  all,  and  is  mentioned  by  Mr.  Jefferson  alone9 
and  by  him  only  in  a  cursory  way.  Mr.  Jefferson  re= 
lates  that  Ledyard  called  upon  him  in  Paris,  panting  for 
some  new  enterprise,  after  his  successful  voyage  with 
Captain  Cook ;  and  that  he  (Mr.  Jefferson)  proposed  to 
him  that  he  should  go  by  land  to  Kamschatka,  cross 
in  some  of  the  Russian  vessels  to  Nootka  Sound,  fall 
down  into  the  latitude  of  the  Misso.uri,  and  then, 
striking  through  the  country,  pass  down  that  river  to 
the  United  States.  Ledyard  agreed  to  the  proposal 
provided  the  permission  of  the  Russian  Government 
could  be  obtained.  Mr.  Jefferson  succeeded  in  obtain 
ing  this;  and  the  traveller,  setting  out  from  Paris, 
arrived  at  St.  Petersburg  after  the  Empress  had  left 
that  place  to  pass  the  winter  at  Moscow.  His  finances 
not  permitting  him  to  make  unnecessary  stay  at  St. 
Petersburg,  he  continued  on  his  route  with  a  passport 
from  one  of  the  ministers,  and,  at  two  hundred  miles 
from  Kamschatka,  was  arrested  by  an  officer  of  the 
Empress,  who  had  changed  her  mind,  and  now  forbade 
his  proceeding.  He  was  put  into  a  close  carriage,  and 
driven  day  and  night,  without  stopping,  till  he  reached 
Poland,  where  he  was  set  down  and  dismissed.  Mr. 
Jefferson,  in  speaking  of  Ledyard's  undertaking,  erro 
neously  calls  it  "  the  first  attempt  to  explore  the 
western  pan  of  our  northern  continent." 

45 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

The  next  enterprise  of  moment  was  the  remarkable 
one  of  Sir  Alexander  Mackenzie,  which  was  prosecuted 
in  1789.  He  started  from  Montreal,  pushed  through 
the  Utawas  River,  Lake  Nipissing,  Lake  Huron, 
around  the  northern  shore  of  Lake  Superior,  through 
what  is  called  the  Grand  Portage,  thence  along  Rain 
River,  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  Bonnet  Lake,  the  upper 
part  of  Dog-Head  Lake,  the  south  coast  of  Lake  Win 
nipeg,  through  Cedar  Lake  and  past  the  mouth  of  the 
Saskatchawine,  to  Sturgeon  Lake;  thence  again,  by 
portage,  to  the  Missinipi  and  through  Black  Bear, 
Prime's  and  Buffalo  Lakes,  to  a  range  of  high  moun 
tains  running  N.E.  and  S.W. ;  then  taking  Elk  River  to 
the  Lake  of  the  Hills,  then  passing  through  Slave  River 
to  Slave  Lake,  around  the  northern  shore  of  this  lake 
to  Mackenzie's  River,  and  down  this,  lastly,  to  the 
Polar  Sea:  an  immense  journey,  during  which  he 
encountered  dangers  innumerable  and  hardships  of 
the  severest  kind.  In  the  whole  of  his  course  down 
Mackenzie's  River  to  its  embouchure,  he  passed  along 
the  bottom  of  the  eastern  declivity  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  but  never  crossed  these  barriers.  In  the 
spring  of  1793,  however,  starting  from  Montreal  and 
pursuing  the  route  of  his  first  journey  as  far  as  the 
mouth  of  the  Unjigah  or  Peace  River,  he  then  turned 
off  to  the  westward,  up  this  stream,  pushed  through 
the  mountains  in  latitude  56,  then  proceeded  to  the 
south  until  he  struck  a  river  which  he  called  the 

46 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

Salmon  (now  Frazer's)  and  following  this,  finally 
reached  the  Pacific  in  about  the  4oth  parallel  of 
N.  L. 

The  memorable  expedition  of  Captains  Lev/is  and 
Clarke  was  in  progress  during  the  years  1804,  '5,  and 
J6.  In  1803,  the  act  for  establishing  trading  houses j 
with  the  Indian  tribes  being  about  to  expire,  some 
modifications  of  it  (with  an  extension  of  its  views  to 
the  Indians  on  the  Missouri)  were  recommended  to 
Congress  by  a  confidential  message  from  Mr.  Jeffersonv 
of  January  i8th.  In  order  to  prepare  the  way,  it  was 
proposed  to  send  a  party  to  trace  the  Missouri  to  its 
source,  cross  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  follow  the  best 
water  communication  which  offered  itself  thence  to  the 
Pacific  Ocean.  This  design  was  fully  carried  out; 
Captain  Lewis  exploring  (but  not  first  "  discovering  " 
as  Mr.  Irving  relates)  the  upper  waters  of  the  Columbia 
River,  and  following  the  course  of  that,  stream  to  its 
embouchure.  The  head  waters  of  the  Columbia  were 
visited  by  Mackenzie  as  early  as  1793. 

Coincident  with  the  exploring  tour  of  Lewis  and 
Clarke  up  the  Missouri,  was  that  of  Major  Zebulon  M. 
Pike  up  the  Mississippi,  which  he  succeeded  in  tracing 
to  its  source  in  Itasca  Lake.  Upon  his  return  from 
this  voyage  he  penetrated,  by  the  orders  of  Govern 
ment,  from  the  Mississippi  westwardly,  during  the 
years  1805,  '6,  and  '7,  to  the  head  waters  of  the  Arkan 
sas  (beyond  the  Rocky  Mountains  in  latitude  40  N.), 

47 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

passing  along  the  Osage  and  Kanzas  rivers,  and  to 
the  source  of  the  Platte. 

In  1810,  Mr.  David  Thompson,  a  partner  of  the 
Northwest  Fur  Company,  set  out  from  Montreal, 
with  a  strong  party,  to  cross  the  continent  to  the 
Pacific.  The  first  part  of  the  route  was  that  of 
Mackenzie  in  1793.  The  object  was  to  anticipate  a 
design  of  Mr.  John  Jacob  Astor's;  to  wit,  the  estab 
lishment  of  a  trading  post  at  the  mouth  of  the  Colum 
bia.  Most  of  his  people  deserted  him  on  the  eastern 
side  of  the  mountains;  but  he  finally  succeeded  in 
crossing  the  chain,  with  only  eight  followers,  when 
he  struck  the  northern  branch  of  the  Columbia,  and 
descended  that  river  from  a  point  much  nearer  its 
source  than  any  white  man  had  done  before. 

In  1811,  Mr.  Astor's  own  remarkable  enterprise  was 
carried  into  effect,  at  least  so  far  as  the  journey  across 
the  country  is  concerned.  As  Mr.  Irving  has  already 
made  all  readers  well  acquainted  with  the  particulars 
of  this  journey,  we  need  only  mention  it  in  brief.  The 
design  we  have  just  spoken  of.  The  track  of  the  party 
(under  command  of  Mr.  Wilson  Price  Hunt)  was  from 
Montreal,  up  the  Utawas,  through  Lake  Nipissing,  and 
a  succession  of  small  lakes  and  rivers,  to  Michilimacki- 
nac,  or  Mackinaw,  thence  by  Green  Bay,  Fox  and 
Wisconsin  rivers,  to  the  Prairie  du  Chien ;  thence  down 
the  Mississippi  to  St.  Louis;  thence  up  the  Missouri, 
to  the  village  of  the  Arickara  Indians,  between  the 

48 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

46th  and  47th  parallels  of  N.  latitude,  and  fourteen 
hundred  and  thirty  miles  above  the  mouth  of  the  river ; 
thence,  bending  to  the  southwest  across  the  desert, 
over  the  mountains  about  where  the  head  waters 
of  the  Platte  and  Yellowstone  take  rise,  and  along  the 
outh  branch  of  the  Columbia  to  the  sea.  Two  small 
return  parties  from  this  expedition  made  most  perilous 
and  eventful  passages  across  the  country. 

The  travels  of  Major  Stephen  H.  Long  are  the  next 
important  ones  in  point  of  time.  This  gentleman,  in 
1823,  proceeded  to  the  source  of  St.  Peter's  River, 
to  Lake  Winnipeg,  to  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  etc.,  etc. 
Of  the  more  recent  journeys  of  Captain  Bonneville  and 
others  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  speak,  as  they  still 
dwell  in  the  public  memory.  Captain  Bonneville's  ad 
ventures  have  been  well  related  by  Mr.  Irving.  In  1832, 
he  passed  from  Fort  Osage  across  the  Rocky  Moun 
tains,  and  spent  nearly  three  years  in  the  regions  be 
yond.  Within  the  limits  of  the  United  States  there  is 
very  little  ground  which  has  not,  of  late  years,  been 
traversed  by  the  man  of  science,  or  the  adventurer. 
But  in  those  wide  and  desolate  regions  which  lie  north 
of  our  territory,  and  to  the  westward  of  Mackenzie's 
River,  the  foot  of  no  civilized  man,  with  the  exception 
of  Mr.  Rodman  and  his  very  small  party,  has  ever  been 
known  to  tread.  In  regard  to  the  question  of  the  first 
passage  across  the  Rocky  Mountains,  it  will  be  seen, 
from  what  we  have  already  said,  that  the  credit  of  the 

VOL.  IV.— 4. 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

enterprise  should  never  have  been  given  to  Lewis  and 
Clarke,  since  Mackenzie  succeeded  in  it,  in  the  year 
1793;  and  that  in  point  of  fact,  Mr.  Rodman  was  the 
first  who  overcame  those  gigantic  barriers,  crossing 
them  as  he  did  in  1792.  Thus  it  is  not  without  good 
reason  that  we  claim  public  attention  for  the  extra 
ordinary  narrative  which  ensues. 


CHAPTER  II 

AFTER  the  death  of  my  father,  and  both  sisters,  I 
took  no  further  interest  in  our  plantation  at  the  Point, 
and  sold  it,  at  a  complete  sacrifice,  to  M.  Junot.  I  had 
often  thought  of  trapping  up  the  Missouri,  and  resolved 
now  to  go  on  an  expedition  up  that  river,  and  try  to 
procure  peltries,  which  I  was  sure  of  being  able  to  sell 
at  Petite  Cote  to  the  private  agents  of  the  Northwest 
Fur  Company.  I  believed  that  much  more  property 
might  be  acquired  in  this  way,  with  a  little  enterprise 
and  courage,  than  I  could  make  by  any  other  means. 
I  had  always  been  fond,  too,  of  hunting  and  trapping, 
although  I  had  never  made  a  business  of  either,  and  I 
had  a  great  desire  to  explore  some  portion  of  our 
western  country,  about  which  Pierre  Junot  had  often 
spoken  to  me.  He  was  the  eldest  son  of  the  neighbor 
who  brought  me  out,  and  was  a  man  of  strange  man 
ners  and  somewhat  eccentric  turn  of  mind,  but  still  one 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

of  the  best-hearted  fellows  in  the  world,  and  certainly 
as  courageous  a  man  as  ever  drew  breath,  although  of 
no  great  bodily  strength.  He  was  of  Canadian  descent, 
and  having  gone,  once  or  twice,  on  short  excursions 
for  the  Fur  Company,  in  which  he  had  acted  as 
voyageur,  was  fond  of  calling  himself  one,  and  of 
talking  about  his  trips.  My  father  had  been  very 
fond  of  Pierre,  and  I  thought  a  good  deal  of  him  my 
self ;  he  was  a  great  favorite,  too,  with  my  younger 
sister,  Jane,  and  I  believe  they  would  have  been 
married  had  it  been  God's  will  to  have  spared  her. 

When  Pierre  discovered  that  I  had  not  entirely  made 
up  my  mind  what  course  to  pursue  after  my  father's 
death,  he  urged  me  to  fit  out  a  small  expedition  for  the 
river,  in  which  he  would  accompany  me ;  and  he  had 
no  difficulty  in  bringing  me  over  to  his  wishes.  We 
agreed  to  push  up  the  Missouri  as  long  as  we  found  it 
possible,  hunting  and  trapping  as  we  went,  and  not  to 
return  until  we  had  secured  as  many  peltries  as  would 
be  a  fortune  for  us  both.  His  father  made  no  objection 
and  gave  him  about  three  hundred  dollars;  when  we 
proceeded  to  Petite  Cote  for  the  purpose  of  getting  our 
equipments,  and  raising  as  many  men  as  we  could  for 
the  voyage. 

Petite  Cote  '  is  a  small  place  on  the  north  bank  of 
the  Missouri,  about  twenty  miles  from  its  junction 
with  the  Mississippi.  It  lies  at  the  foot  of  a  range  of 

1  Now  St.  Charles. 

51 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

low  hills,  and  upon  a  sort  of  ledge,  high  enough  above 
the  river,  to  be  out  of  the  reach  of  the  June  freshets. 
There  are  not  more  than  five  or  six  houses,  and  these 
of  wood,  in  the  upper  part  of  the  place;  but,  nearer 
to  the  east,  there  is  a  chapel  and  twelve  or  fifteen  good 
dwellings,  running  parallel  with  the  river.  There  are 
about  a  hundred  inhabitants,  mostly  Creoles  of 
Canadian  descent.  They  are  extremely  indolent,  and 
make  no  attempt  at  cultivating  the  country  around 
them,  which  is  a  rich  soil,  except  now  and  then  when 
a  little  is  done  in  the  way  of  gardening.  They  live 
principally  by  hunting,  and  trading  with  the  Indians 
for  peltries,  which  they  sell  again  to  the  Northwest 
Company's  agents.  We  expected  to  meet  with  no 
difficulty  here  in  getting  recruits  for  our  journey,  or 
equipments,  but  were  disappointed  in  both  particulars ; 
for  the  place  was  too  poor  in  every  respect  to  furnish 
all  that  we  wanted,  so  as  to  render  our  voyage  safe 
and  efficient. 

We  designed  to  pass  through  the  heart  of  a  country 
infested  with  Indian  tribes,  of  whom  we  knew  nothing 
except  by  vague  report,  and  whom  we  had  every  reason 
to  believe  ferocious  and  treacherous.  It  was  therefore 
particularly  necessary  that  we  should  go  well  provided 
with  arms  and  ammunition,  as  well  as  in  some  force 
as  regards  numbers;  and  if  our  voyage  was  to  be  a 
source  of  profit,  we  must  take  with  us  canoes  of  suffi 
cient  capacity  to  bring  home  what  peltries  we  might 

52 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

collect.  It  was  the  middle  of  March  when  we  first 
reached  Petite  Cote,  and  we  did  not  succeed  in  getting 
ready  until  the  last  of  May.  We  had  to  send  twice 
down  the  river  to  the  Point  for  men  and  supplies,  and 
neither  could  be  obtained  except  at  great  cost.  We 
should  have  failed  at  last  in  getting  many  things  abso 
lutely  requisite,  if  it  had  not  so  happened  that  Pierre 
met  with  a  party  on  its  return  from  a  trip  up  the 
Mississippi,  and  engaged  six  of  its  best  men,  besides  a 
canoe,  or  piroque,  purchasing,  at  the  same  time,  most 
of  the  surplus  stores  and  ammunition. 

This  seasonable  aid  enabled  us  to  get  fairly  ready  for 
the  voyage  before  the  first  of  June.  On  the  third  of 
this  month  ( 1791)  we  bade  adieu  to  our  friends  at  Petite 
Cote,  and  started  on  our  expedition.  Our  party  con 
sisted  in  all  of  fifteen  persons.  Of  these,  five  were 
Canadians  from  Petite  Cote,  and  had  all  been  on  short 
excursions  up  the  river.  They  were  good  boatmen, 
and  excellent  companions,  as  far  as  singing  French 
songs  went,  and  drinking,  at  which  they  were  pre 
eminent  ;  although,  in  truth,  it  was  a  rare  thing  to  see 
any  of  them  so  far  the  worse  for  liquor  as  to  be  incap 
able  of  attending  to  duty.  They  were  always  in  a  good 
humor,  and  always  ready  to  work;  but  as  hunters  I 
did  not  think  them  worth  much,  and  as  fighting  men 
I  soon  discovered  they  were  not  to  be  depended  upon. 
There  were  two  of  thess  five  Canadians  who  engaged 
to  act  as  interpreters  for  the  first  five  or  six  hundred 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

miles  up  the  river  (should  we  proceed  so  far),  and 
then  we  hoped  to  procure  ari  Indian  occasionally  to 
interpret,  should  it  be  necessary ;  but  we  had  resolved 
to  avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  any  meetings  with  the 
Indians,  and  rather  to  trap  ourselves  than  run  the  great 
risk  of  trading,  with  so  small  a  party  as  we  numbered. 
It  was  our  policy  to  proceed  with  the  greatest  caution, 
and  expose  ourselves  to  notice  only  when  we  could  not 
avoid  it. 

The  six  men  whom  Pierre  had  engaged  from  aboard 
the  return  Mississippi  boat  were  as  different  a  set  from 
the  Canadians  as  could  well  be  imagined.  Five  of  them 
were  brothers,  by  the  name  of  Greely  (John,  Robert, 
Meredith,  Frank,  and  Poindexter),  and  bolder  or  finer 
looking  persons  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  find. 
John  Greely  was  the  eldest  and  stoutest  of  the  five,  and 
had  the  reputation  of  being  the  strongest  man,  as  well 
as  best  shot,  in  Kentucky,  from  which  State  they  all 
came.  He  was  full  six  feet  in  height,  and  of  most 
extraordinary  breadth  across  the  shoulders,  with  large 
strongly-knit  limbs.  Like  most  men  of  great  physical 
strength,  he  was  exceedingly  good-tempered,  and  on 
this  account  was  greatly  beloved  by  us  all.  The  other 
four  brothers  were  all  strong,  well-built  men,  too, 
although  not  to  be  compared  with  John.  Poindexter 
was  as  tall,  but  very  gaunt,  and  of  a  singularly  fierce 
appearance;  but,  like  his  elder  brother,  he  was  of 
peaceable  demeanor.  All  of  them  were  experienced 

54 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

hunters  and  capital  shots.  They  had  gladly  accepted 
Pierre's  offer  to  go  with  us,  and  we  made  an  arrange 
ment  with  them  which  ensured  them  an  equal  share 
with  Pierre  and  myself  in  the  profits  of  the  enterprise ; 
that  is  to  say,  we  divided  the  proceeds  into  three  parts, 
one  of  which  was  to  be  mine,  one  Pierre's,  and  one 
shared  among  the  five  brothers. 

The  sixth  man  whom  we  enlisted  from  the  return 
boat  was,  also,  a  good  recruit.  His  name  was  Alex 
ander  Wormley,  a  Virginian,  and  a  very  strange 
character.  He  had  originally  been  a  preacher  of  the 
gospel,  and  had  afterwards  fancied  himself  a  prophet, 
going  about  the  country  with  a  long  beard  and  hair, 
and  in  his  bare  feet,  haranguing  every  one  he  met. 
This  hallucination  was  now  diverted  into  another 
channel,  and  he  thought  of  nothing  else  than  of  finding 
gold  mines  in  some  of  the  fastnesses  of  the  country. 
Upon  this  subject  he  was  as  entirely  mad  as  any  man 
could  well  be;  but  upon  all  others  was  remarkably 
sensible  and  even  acute.  He  was  a  good  boatman  and 
a  good  hunter,  and  as  brave  a  fellow  as  ever  stepped, 
besides  being  of  great  bodily  strength  and  swiftness  of 
foot.  I  counted  much  upon  this  recruit,  on  account 
of  his  enthusiastic  character,  and  in  the  end  I  was  not 
deceived,  as  will  appear. 

Our  other  two  recruits  were  a  negro  belonging  to 
Pierre  Junot,  named  Toby,  and  a  stranger  whom  we 
had  picked  up  in  the  woods  near  Mill's  Point,  and  who 

55 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

joined  our  expedition  upon  the  instant  as  soon  as  we 
mentioned  our  design.  His  name  was  Andrew  Thorn 
ton,  also  a  Virginian,  and  I  believe  of  excellent  family, 
belonging  to  the  Thorntons  of  the  northern  part  of  the 
State.  He  had  been  from  Virginia  about  three  years ; 
during  the  whole  of  which  time  he  had  been  rambling 
about  the  western  country,  with  no  other  companion 
than  a  large  dog  of  the  Newfoundland  species.  He 
had  collected  no  peltries,  and  did  not  seem  to  have  any 
object  in  view,  more  than  the  gratification  of  a  roving 
and  adventurous  propensity.  He  frequently  amused 
us,  when  sitting  around  our  camp  fires  at  night,  with 
the  relation  of  his  adventures  and  hardships  in  the 
wilderness,  recounting  them  with  a  straightforward 
earnestness  which  left  us  no  room  to  doubt  their  truth ; 
although,  indeed,  many  of  them  had  a  marvellous  air. 
Experience  afterwards  taught  us  that  the  dangers  and 
difficulties  of  the  solitary  hunter  can  scarcely  be  exag 
gerated,  and  that  the  real  task  is  to  depict  them  to  the 
hearer  in  sufficiently  distinct  colors.  I  took  a  great 
liking  to  Thornton,  from  the  first  hour  in  which  I 
saw  him. 

I  have  only  said  a  few  words  respecting  Toby;  but 
he  was  not  the  least  important  personage  of  our  party. 
He  had  been  in  old  M.  Junot's  family  for  a  great  num 
ber  of  years,  and  had  proved  himself  a  faithful  negro. 
He  was  rather  too  old  to  accompany  such  an  expedi 
tion  as  ours ;  but  Pierre  was  not  willing  to  leave  him. 

56 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

He  was  an  able-bodied  man,  however,  and  still  capable 
of  enduring  great  fatigue.  Pierre  himself  was  probably 
the  feeblest  of  our  whole  company,  as  regards  bodily 
strength,  but  he  possessed  great  sagacity,  and  a  cour 
age  which  nothing  could  daunt.  His  manners  were 
sometimes  extravagant  and  boisterous,  which  led  him 
to  get  into  frequent  quarrels,  and  had  once  or  twice 
seriously  endangered  the  success  of  our  expedition ;  but 
he  was  a  true  friend,  and  in  that  one  point  I  considered 
him  invaluable. 

I  have  now  given  a  brief  account  of  all  our  party,  as 
it  was  when  we  left  Petite  Cote.1  To  carry  ourselves 
and  accoutrements,  as  well  as  to  bring  home  what 
peltries  might  be  obtained,  we  had  two  large  boats. 
The  smallest  of  these  was  a  piroque  made  of  birch 
bark,  sewed  together  with  the  fibres  of  the  roots  of 
the  spruce  tree,  the  seams  payed  with  pine  resin, 
and  the  whole  so  light  that  six  men  could  carry  it  with 
ease.  It  was  twenty  feet  long,  and  could  be  rowed 
with  from  four  to  twelve  oars ;  drawing  about  eighteen 
inches  water  when  loaded  to  the  gunwale,  and,  when 
empty,  not  more  than  ten.  The  other  was  a  keel-boat 
which  we  had  made  at  Petite  Cote  (the  canoe  having 

1  Mr.  Rodman  has  not  given  any  description  of  himself ;  and  the  account 
of  his  party  is  by  no  means  complete  without  a  portraiture  of  its  leader. 
"  He  was  about  twenty-five  years  of  age,"  says  Mr.  James  Rodman  in  a 
memorandum  now  before  us,  "  when  he  started  up  the  river.  He  was  a 
remarkably  vigorous  and  active  man,  but  short  in  stature,  not  being  more 
than  five  feet  three  or  four  inches  high ;  strongly  built,  with  legs  somewhat 
bowed.  His  physiognomy  was  of  a  Jewish  cast,  his  lips  thin,  and  his  com- 
pkxion  saturnine." 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

been  purchased  by  Pierre  from  the  Mississippi  party). 
It  was  thirty  feet  long,  and,  when  loaded  to  the  gun 
wale,  drew  two  feet  water.  It  had  a  deck  for  twenty 
feet  of  its  length  forward,  forming  a  cuddy-cabin,  with 
a  strong  door,  and  of  sufficient  dimensions  to  contain 
our  whole  party  with  close  crowding,  as  the  boat  was 
very  broad.  This  'part  of  it  was  bullet-proof,  being 
wadded  with  oakum  between  two  coatings  of  oak- 
plank;  and  in  several  positions  we  had  small  holes 
bored,  through  we  could  have  fired  upon  an  enemy  in 
case  of  attack,  as  well  as  observe  their  movements; 
these  holes,  at  the  same  time,  gave  us  air  and  light, 
when  we  closed  the  door;  and  we  had  secure  plugs 
to  fit  them  when  necessary.  The  remaining  ten  feet 
of  the  length  was  open,  and  here  we  could  use  as  many 
as  six  oars;  but  our  main  dependence  was  upon  poles 
which  we  employed  by  walking  along  the  deck.  We 
had  also  a  short  mast,  easily  shipped  and  unshipped, 
which  was  stepped  about  seven  feet  from  the  bow,  and 
upon  which  we  set  a  large  square  sail  when  the  wind 
was  fair,  taking  in  mast  and  all  when  it  was  ahead. 

In  a  division  made  in  the  bow,  under  the  deck,  we 
deposited  ten  kegs  of  good  powder,  and  as  much 
lead  as  we  considered  proportionate,  one  tenth  ready 
moulded  in  rifle  bullets.  We  had  also  stowed  away 
here  a  small  brass  cannon  and  carriage,  dismounted 
and  taken  to  pieces,  so  as  to  lie  in  little  compass,  think 
ing  that  such  a  means  of  defence  might  possibly  come 

58 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

into  play  at  some  period  of  our  expedition.  This 
cannon  was  one  of  three  which  had  been  brought 
down  the  Missouri  by  the  Spaniards  two  years  pre 
viously,  and  lost  overboard  from  a  piroque,  some  miles 
above  Petite  Cote.  A  sand-bar  had  so  far  altered  the 
channel  at  the  place  where  the  canoe  capsized  that  an 
Indian  discovered  one  of  the  guns,  and  procured  assist 
ance  to  carry  it  down  to  the  settlement,  where  he  sold 
it  for  a  gallon  of  whiskey.  The  people  at  Petite  Cote 
then  went  up  and  procured  the  other  two.  They  were 
very  small  guns,  but  of  good  metal  and  beautiful 
workmanship,  being  carved  and  ornamented  with 
serpents  like  some  of  the  French  field-pieces.  Fifty 
iron  balls  were  found  with  the  guns,  and  these  we 
procured.  I  mention  the  way  in  which  we  obtained 
this  cannon,  because  it  performed  an  important  part 
in  some  of  our  operations,  as  will  be  found  hereafter. 
Besides  it,  we  had  fifteen  spare  rifles,  boxed  up,  and 
deposited  forward  with  the  other  heavy  goods.  We 
put  the  weight  here,  to  sink  our  bows  well  in  the  water, 
which  is  the  best  method,  on  account  of  the  snags  and 
sawyers  in  the  river. 

In  the  way  of  other  arms  we  were  sufficiently 
provided ;  each  man  having  a  stout  hatchet  and  knife, 
besides  his  ordinary  rifle  and  ammunition.  Each  boat 
was  provided  with  a  camp  kettle,  three  large  axes,  a 
towing-line,  two  oil-cloths  to  cover  the  goods  when 
necessary,  and  two  large  sponges  for  bailing.  The 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

piroque  had  also  a  small  mast  and  sail  (which  I 
omitted  to  mention),  and  carried  a  quantity  of  gum, 
birch-bark,  and  watape,  to  make  repairs  with.  She 
also  had  in  charge  all  the  Indian  goods  which  we  had 
thought  necessary  to  bring  with  us,  and  which  we 
purchased  from  the  Mississippi  boat.  It  was  not  our 
design  to  trade  with  the  Indians;  but  these  goods 
were  offered  us  at  a  low  rate,  and  we  thought  it  better 
to  take  them,  as  they  might  prove  of  service.  They 
consisted  of  silk  and  cotton  handkerchiefs;  thread, 
lines,  and  twine ;  hats,  shoes,  and  hose ;  small  cutlery 
and  ironmongery ;  calicoes  and  printed  cottons ;  Man 
chester  goods;  twist  and  carrot  tobacco;  milled 
blankets;  and  glass  toys,  beads,  etc.,  etc.  All  these 
were  done  up  in  small  packages,  three  of  which  were 
a  man's  load.  The  provisions  were  also  put  up  so  as 
to  be  easily  handled;  and  a  part  was  deposited  in 
each  boat.  We  had,  altogether,  two  hundredweight 
of  pork,  six  hundredweight  of  biscuit,  and  six  hundred 
weight  of  pemmican.  This  we  had  made  at  Petite 
Cote,  by  the  Canadians,  who  told  us  that  it  is  used 
by  the  Northwest  Fur  Company  in  all  their  long 
voyages,  when  it  is  feared  that  game  may  not  prove 
abundant.  It  is  manufactured  in  a  singular  manner. 
The  lean  parts  of  the  flesh  of  the  larger  animals  is 
cut  into  thin  slices,  and  placed  on  a  wooden  grate 
over  a  slow  fire,  or  exposed  to  the  sun  (as  ours  was), 
or  sometimes  to  the  frost.  When  it  is  sufficiently 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

dried  in  this  way,  it  is  pounded  between  two  heavy 
stones,  and  will  then  keep  for  years.  If,  however, 
much  of  it  is  kept  together,  it  ferments  upon  the 
breaking  up  of  the  frost  in  the  spring,  and,  if  not  well 
exposed  to  the  air,  soon  decays.  The  inside  fat,  with 
that  of  the  rump,  is  melted  down  and  mixed,  in  a 
boiling  state,  with  the  pounded  meat,  half  and  half; 
it  is  then  squeezed  into  bags,  and  is  ready  to  eat  with 
out  any  further  cooking,  being  very  palatable  without 
salt  or  vegetables.  The  best  pemmican  is  made  with 
the  addition  of  marrow  and  dried  berries,  and  is  a 
capital  article  of  food.1  Our  whiskey  was  in  carboys, 
of  five  gallons  each,  and  we  had  twenty  of  these,  a 
hundred  gallons  in  all. 

When  everything  was  well  on  board,  with  our 
whole  company,  including  Thornton's  dog,  we  found 
that  there  was  but  little  room  to  spare,  except  in  the 
big  cabin,  which  we  wished  to  preserve  free  of  goods, 
as  a  sleeping  place  in  bad  weather;  we  had  nothing 
hi  here  except  arms  and  ammunition,  with  some 

1  The  pemmican  here  described  by  Mr.  Rodman  is  altogether  new  to  us,  and 
is  very  different  from  that  with  which  our  readers  have  no  doubt  been  famil 
iarized  in  the  journals  of  Parry,  Ross,  Back,  and  other  Northern  voyagers. 
This,  if  we  remember,  was  prepared  by  long  continued  boiling  of  the  lean 
meat  (carefully  excluding  fat)  until  the  soup  was  reduced  to  a  very  small 
proportion  of  its  original  bulk,  and  assumed  a  pulpy  consistency.  To  this 
residue,  many  spices  and  much  salt  were  added,  and  great  nutriment  was 
supposed  to  be  contained  in  the  little  bulk.  The  positive  experience  of  an 
American  surgeon,  however,  who  had  an  opportunity  of  witnessing,  and 
experimenting  upon,  the  digestive  process  through  an  open  wound  in  the 
stomach  of  a  patient,  has  demonstrated  that  bulk  is,  in  itself,  an  essential  in 
this  process,  and  that  consequently  the  condensation  of  the  nutritive  property 
of  food  involves,  in  a  great  measure,  a  paradox. 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

beaver-traps  and  a  carpet  of  bear-skins.  Our  crowded 
state  suggested  an  expedient  which  ought  to  have  been 
adopted  at  all  events:  that  of  detaching  four  hunters 
from  the  party,  to  course  along  the  river  banks,  and 
keep  us  in  game,  as  well  as  to  act  in  capacity  of  scouts, 
to  warn  us  of  the  approach  of  Indians.  With  this 
object  we  procured  two  good  horses,  giving  one  of 
them  in  charge  of  Robert  and  Meredith  Greely,  who 
were  to  keep  upon  the  south  bank;  and  the  other  in 
charge  of  Frank  and  Poindexter  Greely,  who  were  to 
course  along  the  north  side.  By  means  of  the  horses 
they  could  bring  in  what  game  was  shot. 

This  arrangement  relieved  our  boats  very  consider 
ably,  lessening  our  number  to  eleven.  In  the  small 
boat  were  two  of  the  men  from  Petite  Cote,  with  Toby 
and  Pierre  Junot.  In  the  large  one  were  the  Prophet 
(as  we  called  him),  or  Alexander  Wormley,  John 
Greely,  Andrew  Thornton,  three  of  the  Petite  Cote 
men,  and  myself,  with  Thornton's  dog. 

Our  mode  of  proceeding  was  sometimes  with  oars, 
but  not  generally ;  we  most  frequently  pulled  ourselves 
along  by  the  limbs  of  trees  on  shore;  or,  where  the 
ground  permitted  it,  we  used  a  tow-line,  which  is  the 
easiest  way,  some  of  us  being  on  shore  to  haul,  while 
some  remained  on  board,  to  set  the  boat  off  shore  with 
poles.  Very  often  we  poled  together.  In  this  method 
(which  is  a  good  one  when  the  bottom  is  not  too  muddy, 
or  full  of  quicksands,  and  when  the  depth  of  water  is 

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not  too  great),  the  Canadians  are  very  expert,  as  well 
as  at  rowing.  They  use  long,  stiff,  and  light  poles, 
pointed  with  iron ;  with  these  they  proceed  to  the  bow 
of  the  boat,  an  equal  number  of  men  at  each  side ;  the 
face  is  then  turned  to  the  stern,  and  the  pole  inserted 
in  the  river,  reaching  the  bottom;  a  firm  hold  being 
thus  taken,  the  boatmen  apply  the  heads  of  the  poles 
to  the  shoulder,  which  is  protected  by  a  cushion,  and, 
pushing  in  this  manner,  while  they  walk  along  the  gun 
wale,  the  boat  is  urged  forward  with  great  force.  There 
is  no  necessity  for  any  steersman,  while  using  the  pole ; 
for  the  poles  direct  the  vessel  with  wonderful  accuracy. 
In  these  various  modes  of  getting  along,  now  and 
then  varied  with  the  necessity  of  wading,  and  dragging 
our  vessels  by  hand,  hi  rapid  currents,  or  through 
shallow  water,  we  commenced  our  eventful  voyage  up 
the  Missouri  River.  The  skins,  which  were  considered 
as  the  leading  objects  of  the  expedition,  were  to  be 
obtained,  principally,  by  hunting  and  trapping,  as 
privately  as  possible,  and  without  direct  trade  with 
the  Indians,  whom  we  had  long  learned  to  know  as, 
in  the  main,  a  treacherous  race,  not  to  be  dealt  with 
safely  in  so  small  a  party  as  ours.  The  furs  usually 
collected  by  previous  adventurers  upon  our  contem 
plated  route  included  beaver,  otter,  marten,  lynx,  mink, 
musquash,  bear,  fox,  kitt-fox,  wolverine,  raccoon, 
fisher,  wolf,  buffalo,  deer,  and  elk ;  but  we  proposed  to 
confine  ourselves  to  the  more  costly  kinds. 

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The  morning  on  which  we  set  out  from  Petite  C6te 
was  one  of  the  most  inspiring  and  delicious;  and 
nothing  could  exceed  the  hilarity  of  our  whole  party. 
The  summer  had  hardly  yet  commenced,  and  the  wind, 
which  blew  a  strong  breeze  against  us  at  first  starting, 
had  all  the  voluptuous  softness  of  spring.  The  sun 
shone  clearly,  but  with  no  great  heat.  The  ice  had 
disappeared  from  the  river,  and  the  current,  which  was 
pretty  full,  concealed  all  those  marshy  and  ragged 
alluvia  which  disfigure  the  borders  of  the  Missouri  at 
low  water.  It  had  now  the  most  majestic  appearance, 
washing  up  among  the  willows  and  cottonwood  on  one 
side,  and  rushing,  with  a  bold  volume,  by  the  sharp 
cliffs  on  the  other.  JAs  I  looked  up  the  stream!  (which 
here  stretched  away  to  the  westward,  until  the  waters 
apparently  met  the  sky  in  the  great  distance)!  and  re 
flected  on  the  immensity  of  territory  through  which 
those  waters  had  probably  passed,  a  territory  as  yet 
altogether  unknown  to  white  people,  and  perhaps 
abounding  in  the  magnificent  works  of  God,  I  felt 
an  excitement  of  soul  such  as  I  had  never  before  ex 
perienced,  and  secretly  resolved  that  it  should  be  no 
slight  obstacle  which  should  prevent  my  pushing  up 
this  noble  river  farther  than  any  previous  adventurer 
had  done.  At  that  moment  I  seemed  possessed  of  an 
energy  more  than  human,  and  my  animal  spirits  rose 
to  so  high  a  degree  that  I  could  with  difficulty  content 
myself  in  the  narrow  limits  of  the  boat.  I  longed  to  be 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

with  the  Greelys  on  the  bank,  that  I  might  give  full 
vent  to  the  feelings  which  inspired  me,  by  leaping  and 
running  on  the  prairie.  In  these  feelings  Thornton 
participated  strongly,  evincing  a  deep  interest  in  our 
expedition,  and  an  admiration  of  the  beautiful  scenery 
around  us,  which  rendered  him  from  that  moment  a 
particular  favorite  with  myself.  I  never,  at  any 
period  of  my  life,  felt  so  keenly  as  I  then  did,  the  want 
of  some  friend  to  whom  I  could  converse  freely  and 
without  danger  of  being  misunderstood.  The  sudden 
loss  of  all  my  relatives  by  death  had  saddened,  but  not 
depressed,  my  spirits,  which  appeared  to  seek  relief  in 
a  contemplation  of  the  wild  scenes  of  nature;  and 
these  scenes,  and  the  reflections  which  they  encouraged, 
could  not,  I  found,  be  thoroughly  enjoyed,  without  the 
society  of  some  one  person  of  reciprocal  sentiments. 
Thornton  was  precisely  the  kind  of  individual  to  whom 
I  could  unburden  my  full  heart,  and  unburden  it  of 
all  its  extravagant  emotion,  without  fear  of  incurring 
a  shadow  of  ridicule,  and  even  in  the  certainty  of 
finding  a  listener  as  impassioned  as  myself.  I  never, 
before  or  since,  met  with  any  one  who  so  fully  entered 
into  my  own  notions  respecting  natural  scenery;  and 
this  circumstance  alone  was  sufficient  to  bind  him  to 
me  in  a  firm  friendship.  We  were  as  intimate,  during 
our  whole  expedition,  as  brothers  could  possibly  be, 
and  I  took  no  steps  without  consulting  him.  Pierre 
and  myself  were  also  friends,  but  there  was  not  the  tie 

VOL.    IV.-5.  j. 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

of  reciprocal  thought  between  us,  that  strongest  of 
all  mortal  bonds.  His  nature,  although  sensitive,  was 
too  volatile  to  comprehend  all  the  devotional  fervor 
of  my  own. 

The  incidents  of  the  first  day  of  our  voyage  had 
nothing  remarkable  in  them;  except  that  we  had 
some  difficulty  in  forcing  our  way,  towards  nightfall, 
by  the  mouth  of  a  large  cave  on  the  south  side  of  the 
river.  This  cave  had  a  very  dismal  appearance  as  we 
passed  it,  being  situated  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty  bluff, 
full  two  hundred  feet  high,  and  jutting  somewhat  over 
the  stream.  We  could  not  distinctly  perceive  the 
depth  of  the  cavern,  but  it  was  about  sixteen  or  seven 
teen  feet  high,  and  at  least  fifty  in  width.1  The  current 
ran  past  it  with  great  velocity,  and,  as  from  the  nature 
of  the  cliff  we  could  not  tow,  it  required  the  utmost 
exertion  to  make  our  way  by  it;  which  we  at  length 
effected  by  getting  all  of  us,  with  the  exception  of  one 
man,  into  the  large  boat.  This  one  remained  in  the 
piroque,  and  anchored  it  below  the  cave.  By  uniting 


1  The  cave  here  mentioned  is  that  called  the  "  Tavern  "  by  the  traders  and 
boatmen.  Some  grotesque  images  are  painted  on  the  cliffs,  and  commanded, 
at  one  period,  great  respect  from  the  Indians.  In  speaking  of  this  cavern. 
Captain  Lewis  says  that  it  is  a  hundred  and  twenty  feet  wide,  twenty  feet 
high,  and  forty  deep,  and  that  the  bluffs  overhanging  it  are  nearly  three 
hundred  feet  high.  We  wish  to  call  attention  to  the  circumstance  that,  in 
every  point,  Mr.  Rodman's  account  falls  short  of  Captain  Lewis's.  With  all 
his  evident  enthusiasm,  our  traveller  is  never  prone  to  the  exaggeration  of  facts. 
In  a  great  variety  of  instances  like  the  present,  it  will  be  found  that  his 
statements  respecting  quantity  (in  the  full  sense  of  the  term)  always  fall 
within  the  truth,  as  this  truth  is  since  ascertained.  We  regard  ihis  as  a  re 
markable  trait  in  his  mind;  and  it  is  assuredly  one  which  would  entitle  hia 

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our  force,  then,  in  rowing,  we  brought  the  large  boat 
up  beyond  the  difficult  pass,  paying  out  a  line  to  the 
piroque  as  we  proceeded,  and  by  this  line  hauling  it 
up  after  us,  when  we  had  fairly  ascended.  We  passed, 
during  the  day,  Bonhomme,  and  Osage  Femme  rivers, 
with  two  small  creeks,  and  several  islands  of  little 
extent.  We  made  about  twenty-five  miles,  notwith 
standing  the  head  wind,  and  encamped  at  night  on 
the  north  bank,  and  at  the  foot  of  a  rapid  called  Diable. 
June  the  fourth.  Early  this  morning,  Frank  and 
Poindexter  Greely  came  into  our  camp  with  a  fat 
buck,  upon  which  we  all  breakfasted  in  high  glee,  and 
afterwards  pushed  on  with  spirit.  At  the  Diable 
rapid,  the  current  sets  with  much  force  against  some 
'rocks  which  jut  out  from  the  south,  and  render  the 
navigation  difficult.  A  short  distance  above  this  we 
met  with  several  quicksand  bars,  which  put  us  to 
trouble ;  the  banks  of  the  river  here  fall  in  continually, 
and,  in  the  process  of  time,  must  greatly  alter  the  bed. 
At  eight  o'clock  we  had  a  fine  fresh  wind  from  the 


observations  to  the  highest  credit,  when  they  concern  regions  about  which 
we  know  nothing  beyond  these  observations.  In  all  points  which  relate  to 
effects,  on  the  contrary,  Mr.  Rodman's  peculiar  temperament  leads  him  into 
excess.  For  example,  he  speaks  of  the  cavern  now  in  question  as  of  a  "  dismal 
appearance,"  and  the  coloring  of  his  narrative  respecting  it  is  derived  princi~ 
pally  from  the  sombre  hue  of  his  own  spirit,  at  the  time  of  passing  the  rock. 
It  will  be  as  well  to  bear  these  distinctions  in  mind,  as  we  read  his  Journal. 
His  facts  are  never  heightened;  his  impressions  from  these  facts  must  have. 
to  ordinary  perceptions,  a  tone  of  exaggeration.  Yet  there  is  no  falsity  in 
this  exaggeration,  except  in  view  of  a  general  sentiment  upon  the  thing  seen 
and  described.  As  regards  his  own  mind,  the  apparent  gaudiness  of  color  is 
the  absolute  and  only  true  tint. 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

eastward,  and,  with  its  assistance,  made  rapid  progress, 
so  that  by  night  we  had  gone  perhaps  thirty  miles,  or 
more.  We  passed,  on  the  north,  the  river  Du  Bois,  a 
creek  called  Charite,1  and  several  small  islands.  The 
river  was  rising  fast  as  we  came  to,  at  night,  under  a 
group  of  cottonwood  trees,  there  being  no  ground 
near  at  hand  upon  which  we  were  disposed  to  encamp. 
It  was  beautiful  weather,  and  I  felt  too  much  excited 
to  sleep;  so,  asking  Thornton  to  accompany  me,  I 
took  a  stroll  into  the  country,  and  did  not  return 
until  nearly  daylight.  The  rest  of  our  crew  occupied 
the  cabin,  for  the  first  time,  and  found  it  quite  roomy 
enough  for  five  or  six  more  persons.  They  had  been 
disturbed,  in  the  night,  by  a  strange  noise  overhead, 
on  deck,  the  origin  of  which  they  had  not  been  able* 
to  ascertain;  as,  when  some  of  the  party  rushed  out 
to  see,  the  disturber  had  disappeared.  From  the 
account  given  of  the  noise,  I  concluded  that  it  must 
have  proceeded  from  an  Indian  dog,  who  had  scented 
our  fresh  provisions  (the  buck  of  yesterday)  and  was 
endeavoring  to  make  off  with  a  portion.  In  this 
view  I  felt  perfectly  satisfied;  but  the  occurrence 
suggested  the  great  risk  we  ran  in  not  posting  a  regu 
lar  watch  at  night,  and  it  was  agreed  to  do  so  for  the 
future. 

[Having  thus  given,  in  Mr.  Rodman's  own  words,  the 
incidents  of  the  two  first  days  of  the  voyage,  we  for- 

1  La  Charette  ?     Du  Bois  is  no  doubt  Wood  River. 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

bear  to  follow  him  minutely  in  his  passage  up  the  Mis 
souri  to  the  mouth  of  the  Platte,  at  which  he  arrived 
on  the  tenth  of  August.  The  character  of  the  river 
throughout  this  extent  is  so  well  known,  and  has  been 
so  frequently  described,  that  any  further  account  of  it 
is  unnecessary;  and  the  Journal  takes  note  of  little 
else,  at  this  portion  of  the  tour,  than  the  natural  fea 
tures  of  the  country,  together  with  the  ordinary  boat 
ing  and  hunting  occurrences.  The  party  made  three 
several  halts  for  the  purpose  of  trapping,  but  met  with 
no  great  success ;  and  finally  concluded  to  push  farther 
into  the  heart  of  the  country,  before  making  any  regu 
lar  attempts  at  collecting  peltries.  Only  two  events  of 
moment  are  recorded,  for  the  two  months  which  we 
omit.  One  of  these  was  the  death  of  a  Canadian, 
Jacques  Lauzanne,  by  the  bite  of  a  rattlesnake  ythe 
other  was  the  encountering  a  Spanish  commission  sent 
to  intercept  and  turn  the  party  back,  by  order  of  the 
commandant  of  the  province.  The  officer  in  charge  of 
the  detachment,  however,  was  so  much  interested  in 
the  expedition,  and  took  so  great  a  fancy  to  Mr.  Rod 
man,  that  our  travellers  were  permitted  to  proceed,  j 
Many  small  bodies  of  Osage  and  Kanzas  Indians 
hovered  occasionally  about  the  boats,  but  evinced 
nothing  of  hostility.  We  leave  the  voyagers  for  the 
present,  therefore,  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  Platte,  on 
the  tenth  of  August,  1791,  their  number  having  been 
reduced  to  fourteen.] 

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CHAPTER  III 

[HAVING  reached  the  mouth  of  the  river  Platte,  our 
voyagers  encamped  fcr  three  days,  during  which  they 
were  busily  occupied  in  drying  and  airing  their  goods 
and  provisions,  making  new  oars  and  poles,  and  repair 
ing  the  birch  canoe,  which  had  sustained  material  in 
jury.  The  hunters  brought  in  an  abundance  of  game, 
with  which  the  boats  were  loaded  to  repletion.  Deer 
was  had  for  the  asking,  and  turkeys  and  fat  grouse 
were  met  with  in  great  plenty.  The  party,  moreover, 
regaled  on  several  species  of  fish,  and,  at  a  short  dis 
tance  from  the  river  banks,  found  an  exquisite  kind  of 
wild  grape.  No  Indians  had  been  seen  for  better  than 
a  fortnight,  as  this  was  the  hunting  season,  and  they 
were  doubtless  engaged  in  the  prairies,  taking  buffalo. 
After  perfectly  recruiting,  the  voyagers  broke  up  their 
encampment,  and  pushed  on  up  the  Missouri,  We 
resume  the  words  of  the  Journal.] 

A ugust  14,  We  started  with  a  delightful  breeze  from 
the  S.E.,  and  kept  along  by  the  southern  shore,  taking 
advantage  of  the  eddy,  and  going  at  a  great  rate,  not 
withstanding  the  current,  which,  in  the  middle,  was 
unusually  full  and  strong.  At  noon,  we  stopped  to 
examine  some  remarkable  mounds  on  the  southwest 
ern  shore,  at  a  spot  where  the  ground  seems  to  have 
sunk  considerably  to  an  extent  of  three  hundred  acres 
or  more.  A  large  pond  is  in  the  vicinity,  and  appears  to 
have  drained  the  low  tract.  This  is  covered  with 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

mounds  of  various  sizes  and  shapes,  all  formed  of  sand 
and  mud,  the  highest  being  nearest  the  river.  I  could 
not  make  up  my  mind  whether  these  hillocks  were  of 
natural  or  artificial  construction.  I  should  have  sup° 
posed  them  made  by  the  Indians,  but  for  the  general 
appearance  of  the  soil,  which  had  apparently  been  sub 
jected  to  the  violent  action  of  water.1  We  stayed  at 
this  spot  the  rest  of  the  day,  having  made  altogether 
twenty  miles. 

August  IS,  To-day  we  had  a  heavy,  disagreeable 
head  wind,  and  made  only  fifteen  miles,  with  great 
labor;  encamping  at  night  beneath  a  bluff  on  the 
north  shore,  this  being  the  first  bluff  on  that  side  which 
we  had  seen  since  leaving  the  Nodaway  River.  In  the 
night  it  came  on  to  rain  hi  torrents,  and  the  Greelys 
brought  in  their  horses,  and  ensconced  themselves  in 
the  cabin.  Robert  swam  the  river  with  his  horse  from 
the  south  shore,  and  then  took  the  canoe  across  for 
Meredith.  He  appeared  to  think  nothing  of  either  of 
these  feats,  although  the  night  was  one  of  the  darkest 
and  most  boisterous  I  ever  saw,  and  the  river  was  much 
swollen.  We  all  sat  in  the  cabin  very  comfortably,  for 
the  weather  was  quite  cool,  and  were  kept  awake  for 
a  long  time  by  the  anecdotes  of  Thornton,  who  told 
story  after  story  of  his  adventures  with  the  Indians  on 


1  These  mounds  are  now  well  understood  to  indicate  the  position  of  the 
ancient  village  of  the  Ottoes,  who  were  once  a  very  powerful  tribe,  Being 
reduced  by  continual  hostilities,  they  sought  protection  of  the  Pawnees,  and 
migrated  to  the  south  of  the  Platte.  about  thirty  miles  from  its  mouth, 

7* 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

the  Mississippi.  His  huge  dog  appeared  to  listen  with 
profound  attention  to  every  word  that  was  said.  When- 
ever  any  particularly  incredible  circumstance  was  re 
lated,  Thornton  would  gravely  refer  to  him  as  a  witness. 
"  Nep,"  he  would  say,  "  don't  you  remember  that 
time  ?  "  or  "  Nep  can  swear  to  the  truth  of  that — can't 
you,  Nep  ?  "  when  the  animal  would  roll  up  his  eyes 
immediately,  loll  out  his  monstrous  tongue,  and  wag 
his  great  head  up  and  down,  as  much  as  to  say:  "  Oh, 
it 's  every  bit  as  true  as  the  Bible."  Although  we  all 
knew  that  this  trick  had  been  taught  the  dog,  yet  for 
our  lives  we  could  not  forbear  shouting  with  laughter, 
whenever  Thornton  would  appeal  to  him. 

August  16,  Early  this  morning  passed  an  island, 
and  a  creek  about  fifteen  yards  wide,  and,  at  a  farther 
distance  of  twelve  miles,  a  large  island  in  the  middle 
of  the  river.  We  had  now,  generally,  high  prairie 
and  timbered  hills  on  the  north,  with  low  ground  on 
the  south,  covered  with  cottonwood.  The  river  was 
excessively  crooked,  but  not  so  rapid  as  before  we 
passed  the  Platte,  Altogether  there  is  less  timber 
than  formerly;  what  there  is,  is  mostly  elm,  cotton- 
wood,  hickory,  and  walnut,  with  some  oak.  Had  a 
strong  wind  nearly  all  day,  and  by  means  of  the  eddy 
and  this,  we  made  twenty-five  miles  before  night. 
Our  encampment  was  on  the  south,  upon  a  large  plain, 
covered  with  high  grass,  and  bearing  a  great  number 
of  plum  trees  and  currant  bushes.  In  our  rear  was  a 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

steep  woody  ridge,  ascending  which  we  found  anothei 
prairie  extending  back  for  about  a  mile,  and  stopped 
again  by  a  similar  woody  ridge,  followed  by  another 
vast  prairie,  going  off  into  the  distance  as  far  as  the 
eye  can  reach.  From  the  cliffs  just  above  us  we  had 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  prospects  in  the  world.1 

August  17,  We  remained  at  the  encampment  all 
day,  and  occupied  ourselves  hi  various  employments. 
Getting  Thornton,  with  his  dog,  to  accompany  me, 
I  strolled  to  some  distance  to  the  southward,  and  was 
enchanted  with  the  voluptuous  beauty  of  the  country. 
The  prairies  exceeded  in  beauty  anything  told  in  the 
tales  of  the  Arabian  Nights,  On  the  edges  of  the 
creeks  there  was  a  wild  mass  of  flowers  which  looked 
more  like  art  than  nature,  so  profusely  and  fantasti 
cally  were  their  vivid  colors  blended  together.  Their 
rich  odor  was  almost  oppressive.  Every  now  and 
then  we  came  to  a  kind  of  green  island  of  trees,  placed 
amid  an  ocean  of  purple,  blue,  orange,  and  crimson 
blossoms,  all  waving  to  and  fro  in  the  wind.  These 
islands  consisted  of  the  most  majestic  forest  oaks,  and, 
beneath  them,  the  grass  resembled  a  robe  of  the  softest 
green  velvet,  while  up  their  huge  stems  there  clambered 
generally  a  profusion  of  grape-vines,  laden  with 
delicious  ripe  fruit.  The  Missouri  in  the  distance 
presented  the  most  majestic  appearance ;  and  many  of 
the  real  islands  with  which  it  was  studded  were  entirely 

1  The  Council  Bluffs. 

73 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

covered  with  plum  bushes,  or  other  shrubbery,  except 
where  crossed  in  various  directions  by  narrow,  mazy 
paths,  like  the  alleys  in  an  English  flower-garden ;  and 
in  these  alleys  we  could  always  see  either  elks  or  ante 
lopes,  who  had  no  doubt  made  them.  We  returned^ 
at  sunset,  to  the  encampment,  delighted  with  our  ex 
cursion.  The  night  was  warm,  and  we  were  excessively 
annoyed  by  mosquitoes. 

August  18,  To-day  passed  through  a  narrow  part 
of  the  river,  not  more  than  two  hundred  yards  wide, 
with  a  rapid  channel,  much  obstructed  with  logs  and 
driftwood.  Ran  the  large  boat  on  a  sawyer,  and  half 
filled  her  with  water  before  we  could  extricate  her  from 
the  difficulty.  We  were  obliged  to  halt,  in  conse 
quence,  and  overhaul  our  things.  Some  of  the  biscuit 
was  injured,  but  none  of  the  powder.  Remained  all 
day,  having  only  made  five  miles. 

August  19,  We  started  early  this  morning  and 
made  great  headway.  The  weather  was  cool  and 
cloudy,  and  at  noon  we  had  a  drenching  shower. 
Passed  a  creek  on  the  south,  the  mouth  of  which  is 
nearly  concealed  by  a  large  sand  island  of  singular 
appearance.  Went  about  fifteen  miles  beyond  this. 
Ths  highlands  now  recede  from  the  river,  and  are 
probably  from  ten  Co  twenty  miles  apart.  On  the 
north  is  a  good  deal  of  fine  timber,  but  on  the  south 
very  little.  Near  the  river  are  beautiful  prairies,  and 
along  the  banks  we  procured  four  or  five  different 

74 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

,pecies  of  grape,  all  of  good  flavor  and  quite  ripe; 
one  is  a  large  purple  grape  of  excellent  quality.  The 
hunters  came  into  camp  at  night  from  both  sides  of 
the  river,  and  brought  us  more  game  than  we  well 
knew  what  to  do  with, — grouse,  turkeys,  two  deer,  an 
antelope,  and  a  quantity  of  yellow  birds  with  black- 
jrtriped  wings;  "these  latter  proved  delicious  eating. 
We  made  about  twenty  miles  during  the  day. 

August  20,  The  river,  this  morning,  was  full  of 
sand-bars  and  other  obstructions;  but  we  proceeded 
with  spirit,  and  reached  the  mouth  of  a  pretty  large 
creek,  before  night,  at  a  distance  of  twenty  miles  from 
our  last  encampment.  The  creek  comes  in  from  the 
north,  and  has  a  large  island  opposite  its  mouth.  Here 
we  made  our  camp,  with  the  resolution  of  remaining 
four  or  five  days  to  trap  beaver,  as  we  saw  great  signs 
of  them  in  the  neighborhood.  This  island  was  one  of 
the  most  fairy-looking  situations  in  the  world,  and  filled 
my  mind  with  the  most  delightful  and  novel  emotions. 
The  whole  scenery  rather  resembled  what  I  had 
dreamed  of  when  a  boy  than  an  actual  reality.  The 
banks  sloped  down  very  gradually  into  the  water,  and 
were  carpeted  with  a  soft  grass  of  a  brilliant  green  hue, 
which  was  visible  under  the  surface  of  the  stream  for 
some  distance  from  the  shore ;  especially  on  the  north 
side,  where  the  clear  creek  fell  into  the  river.  All 
round  the  island,  which  was  probably  about  twenty 
acres  in  extent,  was  a  complete  fringe  of  cottonwood, 

75 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

the  trunks  loaded  with  grape-vines  hi  full  fruit,  and 
so  closely  interlocking  with  each  other  that  we  could 
scarcely  get  a  glimpse  of  the  river  between  the  leaves. 
Within  this  circle  the  grass  was  somewhat  higher,  and 
of  a  coarser  texture,  with  a  pale  yellow  or  white  streak 
down  the  middle  of  each  blade,  and  giving  out  a  re 
markably  delicious  perfume,  resembling  that  of  the 
vanilla  bean,  but  much  stronger,  so  that  the  whole 
atmosphere  was  loaded  with  it.  The  common  English 
sweet  grass  is  no  doub  of  the  same  genus,  but  greatly 
inferior  in  beauty  and  fragrance.  Interspersed  among 
it  in  every  direction,  were  myriads  of  the  most  brilliant 
flowers,  in  full  bloom,  and  most  of  them  of  fine  odor — 
blue,  pure  white,  bright  yellow,  purple,  crimson, 
gaudy  scarlet,  and  some  with  streaked  leaves  like 
tulips.  Little  knots  of  cherry  trees  and  plum  bushes 
grew  in  various  directions  about,  and  there  were  many 
narrow  winding  paths  which  circled  the  island,  and 
which  had  been  made  by  elks  or  antelopes.  Nearly  hi 
the  centre  was  a  spring  of  sweet  and  clear  water, 
which  bubbled  up  from  among  a  cluster  of  steep  rocks, 
covered  from  head  to  foot  with  moss  and  flowering 
vines.  The  whole  bore  a  wonderful  resemblance  to  an 
artificial  flower-garden,  but  was  infinitely  more  beauti 
ful,  looking  rather  like  some  of  those  scenes  of  en 
chantment  which  we  read  of  in  old  books.  We  were 
all  in  ecstasy  with  the  spot,  and  prepared  our  camp 
in  the  highest  glee,  amid  its  wilderness  of  sweets. 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

[The  party  remained  here  a  week,  during  which 
time,  the  neighboring  country  to  the  north  was  ex 
plored  in  many  directions,  and  some  peltries  obtained, 
especially  upon  the  creek  mentioned.  The  weather 
was  fine,  and  the  enjoyment  of  the  voyagers  suffered 
no  alloy,  in  their  terrestrial  Paradise.  Mr.  Rodman, 
however,  omitted  no  necessary  precautions,  and  sen 
tries  were  regularly  posted  every  night,  when  all  hands 
assembled  at  camp,  and  made  merry.  Such  feasting 
and  drinking  were  never  before  known ;  the  Canadians 
proving  themselves  the  very  best  fellows  in  the  world 
at  a  song  or  over  a  flagon.  They  did  nothing  but 
eat,  and  cook,  and  dance,  and  shout  French  carols  at 
the  top  of  their  voice.  During  the  day  they  were 
chiefly  entrusted  with  the  charge  of  the  encampment, 
while  the  steadier  members  of  the  party  were  absent 
upon  hunting  or  trapping  expeditions.  In  one  of  these 
Mr.  Rodman  enjoyed  an  excellent  opportunity  of  ob 
serving  the  habits  of  the  beaver;  and  his  account  of 
this  singular  animal  is  highly  interesting;  the  more 
so  as  it  differs  materially,  hi  some  points,  from  the 
ordinary  descriptions. 

He  was  attended,  as  usual,  by  Thornton  and  his  dog, 
and  had  traced  up  a  small  creek  to  its  source  in  the 
highlands  about  ten  miles  from  the  river.  The  party 
came  at  length  to  a  place  where  a  large  swamp  had 
been  made  by  the  beavers,  hi  damming  up  the  creek. 
A  thick  grove  of  willows  occupied  one  extremity  of  the 

77 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

swamp,  some  of  them  overhanging  the  water  at  a  spot 
where  several  of  the  animals  were  observed.  Our  ad 
venturers  crept  stealthily  round  to  these  willows,  and, 
making  Neptune  lie  down  at  a  little  distance 9  succeeded 
in  climbing,  unobserved,  into  a  large  and  thick  tree, 
where  they  could  look  immediately  down  upon  all  that 
was  going  on. 

The  beavers  were  repairing  a  portion  of  their  dam, 
and  every  step  of  their  progress  was  distinctly  seen. 
One  by  one  the  architects  were  perceived  to  approach 
the  edge  of  the  swamp,  each  with  a  small  branch  in  his 
mouth.  With  this  he  proceeded  to  the  dam,  and 
placed  it  carefully,  and  longitudinally,  on  the  part 
which  had  given  way.  Having  done  this,  he  dived 
immediately,  and  in  a  few  seconds  reappeared  above 
the  surface  with  a  quantity  of  stiff  mud,  which  he  first 
squeezed  so  as  to  drain  it  of  its  moisture  hi  a  great 
degree,  and  then  applied  with  his  feet  and  tail  (using 
the  latter  as  a  trowel)  to  the  branch  which  he  had  just 
laid  upon  the  breach.  He  then  made  off  among  the 
trees,  and  was  quickly  succeeded  by  another  of  the 
community,  who  went  through  precisely  the  same 
operation. 

In  this  way  the  damage  sustained  by  the  dam  was  in 
a  fair  way  of  being  soon  repaired.  Messieurs  Rod 
man  and  Thornton  observed  the  progress  of  the  work 
for  more  than  two  hours,  and  bear  testimony  to  the 
exquisite  skill  of  the  artisans.  But  as  soon  as  a  beaver 

?8 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

left  the  edge  of  the  swamp  in  search  of  a  branch,  he 
was  lost  sight  of  among  the  willows,  much  to  the 
chagrin  of  the  observers,  who  were  anxious  to  watch 
his  further  operations.  By  clambering  a  little  higher 
up  in  the  tree,  however,  they  discovered  everything.  A 
small  sycamore  had  been  felled,  apparently,  and  was 
now  nearly  denuded  of  all  its  fine  branches,  a  few 
beavers  still  nibbling  off  some  that  remained,  and  pro 
ceeding  with  them  to  the  dam.  In  the  meantime  a 
great  number  of  the  animals  surrounded  a  much  older 
and  larger  tree,  which  they  were  busily  occupied  in 
cutting  down.  There  were  as  many  as  fifty  or  sixty 
of  the  creatures  around  the  trunk,  of  which  number 
six  or  seven  would  work  at  once,  leaving  off  one  by 
one,  as  each  became  weary;  a  fresh  one  stepping  into 
the  vacated  place.  When  our  travellers  first  observed 
the  sycamore,  it  had  been  already  cut  through  to  a 
great  extent,  but  only  on  the  side  nearest  the  swamp, 
upon  the  edge  of  which  it  grew.  The  incision  was 
nearly  a  foot  wide,  and  as  cleanly  made  as  if  done  with 
an  axe ;  and  the  ground  at  the  bottom  of  the  tree  was 
covered  with  fine  longitudinal  slips,  like  straws,  which 
had  been  nibbled  out,  and  not  eaten ;  as  it  appears  that 
these  animals  only  ui-e  the  bark  for  food.  When  at 
work  some  sat  upon  the  hind  legs,  in  the  posture  so 
common  with  squirrels,  and  gnawed  at  the  wood, 
their  fore  feet  resting  upon  the  edge  of  the  cut,  and 
their  heads  thrust  far  into  the  aperture.  Two  of  them, 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

however,  were  entirely  within  the  incision;  lying  a* 
length,  and  working  with  great  eagerness  for  a  short 
time,  when  they  were  relieved  by  their  companions. 

Although  the  position  of  our  voyagers  was  anything 
but  comfortable,  so  great  was  their  curiosity  to  witness 
the  felling  of  the  sycamore,  that  they  resolutely  main 
tained  their  post  until  sunset,  an  interval  of  eight  hours 
from  the  time  of  ascending.  Their  chief  embarrass 
ment  was  on  Neptune's  account,  who  could  with  diffi 
culty  be  kept  from  plunging  into  the  swamp  after  the 
plasterers  who  were  repairing  the  dam.  The  noise  he 
made  had  several  times  disturbed  the  nibblers  at  the 
tree,  who  would  every  now  and  then  start,  as  if  all 
actuated  by  one  mind,  and  listen  attentively  for  many 
minutes.  As  evening  approached,  however,  the  dog 
gave  over  his  freaks,  and  lay  quiet ;  while  the  beavers 
went  on  uninterruptedly  with  their  labor. 

Just  as  the  sun  began  to  set,  a  sudden  commotion 
was  observed  among  the  wood-cutters,  who  all  started 
from  the  tree,  and  flew  round  to  the  side  which  was 
untouched.  In  an  instant  afterwards  it  was  seen  to 
settle  down  gradually  on  the  gnawed  side,  till  the  lip? 
of  the  incision  met;  but  still  it  did  not  fall,  being 
sustained  partially  by  the  unsundered  bark.  This  was 
now  attacked  with  zeal  by  as  many  nibblers  as  could 
find  room  to  work  at  it,  and  very  quickly  severed; 
when  the  huge  tree,  to  which  the  proper  inclination 
had  already  been  so  ingeniously  given,  fell  with  a 

80 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

tremendous  crash,  and  spread  a  great  portion  of  its 
topmost  branches  over  the  surface  of  the  swamp.  This 
matter  accomplished,  the  whole  community  seemed 
to  think  a  holiday  was  deserved,  and,  ceasing  work  at 
once,  began  to  chase  each  other  about  hi  the  water, 
diving,  and  slapping  the  surface  with  their  tails. 

The  account  here  given  of  the  method  employed  by 
the  beaver  hi  its  wood-cutting  operations  is  more 
circumstantial  than  any  we  have  yet  seen,  and  seems 
to  be  conclusive  in  regard  to  the  question  of  design  on 
the  animal's  part.  The  intention  of  making  the  tree 
fall  towards  the  water  appears  here  to  be  obvious. 
Captain  Bonneville,  it  will  be  remembered,  discredits 
the  alleged  sagacity  of  the  animal  in  this  respect,  and 
thinks  it  has  no  further  aim  than  to  get  the  tree  down, 
without  any  subtle  calculation  in  respect  to  its  mode 
of  descent.  This  attribute,  he  thinks,  has  been  as 
cribed  to  it  from  the  circumstance  that  trees  in  general, 
which  grow  near  the  margin  of  water,  either  lean  bodily 
towards  the  stream,  or  stretch  their  most  ponderous 
limbs  in  that  direction,  in  search  of  the  light,  space, 
and  air  which  are  there  usually  found.  The  beaver, 
he  says,  attacks,  of  course,  those  trees  which  are  near 
est  at  hand,  and  on  the  banks  of  the  stream  or  pond, 
and  these,  when  cut  through,  naturally  preponderate 
towards  the  water.  This  suggestion  is  well-timed, 
but  by  no  means  conclusive  against  the  design  of  the 
beaver,  whose  sagacity,  at  best,  is  far  beneath  that 

VOL.  iv.— 6. 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

which  is  positively  ascertained  in  respect  to  many 
classes  of  inferior  animals,  infinitely  below  that  of  the 
lion-ant,  of  the  bee,  and  of  the  corralliferi.  The 
probability  is  that,  were  two  trees  offered  to  the  choice 
jof  the  beaver,  one  of  which  preponderated  to  the 
water,  and  the  other  did  not,  he  would,  in  felling  the 
first,  omit,  as  unnecessary,  the  precautions  just  de 
scribed,  but  observe  them  in  felling  the  second. 

In  a  subsequent  portion  of  the  Journal  other  par 
ticulars  are  given  respecting  the  habits  of  the  singular 
animal  in  question,  and  of  the  mode  of  trapping  it 
employed  by  the  party,  and  we  give  them  here  for  the 
sake  of  continuity.  The  principal  food  of  the  beavers 
is  bark,  and  of  this  they  put  by  regularly  a  large  store 
for  winter  provision,  selecting  the  proper  kind  with 
care  and  deliberation.  A  whole  tribe,  consisting  some 
times  of  two  or  three  hundred,  will  set  out  together 
upon  a  foraging  expedition,  and  pass  through  groves  of 
trees  all  apparently  similar,  until  a  particular  one  suits 
their  fancy.  This  they  cut  down,  and,  breaking  off  its 
most  tender  branches,  divide  them  into  short  slips  of 
equal  length,  and  divest  these  slips  of  their  bark,  which 
they  carry  to  the  nearest  stream  leading  to  their  village, 
thence  floating  it  home.  Occasionally  the  slips  are 
stored  away  for  the  winter  without  being  stripped  of 
the  bark ;  and,  in  this  event,  they  are  careful  to  remove 
the  refuse  wood  from  their  dwellings,  as  soon  as  they 
have  eaten  the  rind,  taking  the  sticks  to  some  distance. 

82 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

During  the  spring  of  the  year  the  males  are  never 
found  with  the  tribe  at  home,  but  always  by  them 
selves,  either  singly,  or  in  parties  of  two  or  three,  when 
they  appear  to  lose  their  usual  habits  of  sagacity,  and 
fall  an  easy  prey  to  the  arts  of  the  trapper.  In  summer 
they  return  home,  and  busy  themselves,  with  the 
females,  in  making  provision  for  winter.  They  are  de 
scribed  as  exceedingly  ferocious  animals  when  irritated. 
Now  and  then  they  may  be  caught  upon  shore; 
especially  the  males  in  spring,  who  are  then  fond  of 
roving  to  some  distance  from  the  water  in  search  of 
food.  When  thus  caught,  they  are  easily  killed  with  a 
blow  from  a  stick ;  but  the  most  certain  and  efficacious 
mode  of  taking  them  is  by  means  of  the  trap.  This  is 
simply  constructed  to  catch  the  foot  of  the  animal. 
The  trapper  places  it  usually  in  some  position  near  the 
shore,  and  just  below  the  surface  of  the  water,  fastening 
it  by  a  small  chain  to  a  pole  stuck  in  the  mud.  In  the 
mouth  of  the  machine  is  placed  one  end  of  a  small 
branch,  the  other  end  rising  above  the  surface,  and 
well  soaked  in  the  liquid  bait  whose  odor  is  found  to 
be  attractive  to  the  beaver.  As  soon  as  the  animal 
scents  it,  he  rubs  his  nose  against  the  twig,  and  in  so 
doing  steps  upon  the  trap,  springs  it,  and  is  caught. 
The  trap  is  made  very  light,  for  the  convenience  of 
portage,  and  the  prey  would  easily  swim  off  with  it 
but  for  its  being  fastened  to  the  pole  by  a  chain;  no 
other  species  of  fastening  could  resist  his  teeth.  The 

83 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

experienced  trapper  readily  detects  the  presence  of 
beaver  in  any  pond  or  stream,  discovering  them  by  a 
thousand  appearances  which  would  afford  no  indication 
to  the  unpractised  observer. 

Many  of  the  identical  wood-cutters  whom  the  two 
voyageurs  had  watched  so  narrowly  from,the  tree-top 
fell  afterwards  a  victim  to  trap,  and  their  fine  furs 
became  a  prey  to  the  spoilers,  who  made  sad  havoc 
in  the  lodge  at  the  swamp.  Other  waters  in  the 
neighborhood  also  afforded  the  travellers  much  sport ; 
and  they  long  remembered  the  island  at  the  creek's 
mouth,  by  the  name  of  Beaver  Island,  in  consequence. 
They  left  this  little  paradise  in  high  spirits  on  the 
twenty-seventh  of  the  month,  and,  pursuing  their 
hitherto  somewhat  uneventful  voyage  up  the  river, 
arrived,  by  the  first  of  September,  without  any  incident 
of  note,  at  the  mouth  of  a  large  river  on  the  south, 
to  which  they  gave  the  name  of  Currant  River,  from 
some  berries  abounding  upon  its  margin,  but  which 
was,  beyond  doubt,  the  Quicourre.  The  principal  ob 
jects  of  which  the  Journal  takes  notice  in  this  interval 
are  the  numerous  herds  of  buffalo  which  darkened 
the  prairies  in  every  direction,  and  the  remains  of 
a  fortification  on  the  south  shore  of  the  river,  nearly 
opposite  the  upper  extremity  of  what  has  been  since 
called  Bonhomme  Island,  jof  these  remains  a  minute 
description  is  given,  which  tallies  in  every  important 
particular  with  that  of  Captains  Lewis  and  Clarke. 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

The  travellers  had  passed  the  Little  Sioux,  Floyd's, 
the  Great  Sioux,  White-Stone,  and  Jacques  rivers  on 
the  north;  with  Wawandysenche  Creek  and  White- 
Paint  River  on  the  south,  but  at  neither  of  these 
streams  did  they  stop  to  trap  for  any  long  period. 
They  had  also  passed  the  great  village  of  the  Omahas, 
of  which  the  Journal  takes  no  notice  whatever.  This 
village,  at  the  time,  consisted  of  full  three  hundred 
houses,  and  was  inhabited  by  a  numerous  and  powerful 
tribe ;  but  it  is  not  immediately  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Missouri,  and  the  boats  probably  went  by  it  during  the 
night,  for  the  party  had  begun  to  adopt  this  mode  of 
progress,  through  fear  of  the  Sioux.  We  resume  the 
narrative  of  Mr.  Rodman,  with  the  second  of  Sep 
tember.] 

September  2,  We  had  now  reached  a  part  of  the 
river  where,  according  to  all  report,  a  great  deal  of 
danger  was  to  be  apprehended  from  the  Indians,  and 
we  became  extremely  cautious  in  our  movements. 
This  was  the  region  inhabited  by  the  Sioux,  a  warlike 
and  ferocious  tribe,  who  had,  upon  several  occasions, 
evinced  hostility  to  the  whites,  and  were  known  to  be 
constantly  at  war  with  all  the  neighboring  tribes. 
The  Canadians  had  many  incidents  to  relate  respecting 
their  savage  propensities,  and  I  had  much  apprehension 
lest  those  cowardly  creatures  should  take  an  oppor 
tunity  of  deserting,  and  retracing  their  way  to  the 
Mississippi.  To  lessen  the  chances  of  this,  I  removed 

8.5 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

one  of  them  from  the  piroque,  and  supplied  his  place  by 
Poindexter  Greely.  All  the  Greelys  came  in  from  the 
shore,  turning  loose  the  horses.  Our  arrangement 
was  now  as  follows:  In  the  piroque,  Poindexter 
Greely,  Pierre  Junot,  Toby,  and  one  Canadian ;  in  the 
large  boat,  myself,  Thornton,  Wormley ;  John,  Frank, 
Robert,  and  Meredith  Greely;  and  three  Canadians, 
with  the  dog.  We  set  sail  about  dusk,  and,  having  a 
brisk  wind  from  the  south,  made  good  headway, 
although,  as  night  came  on,  we  were  greatly  embar 
rassed  by  the  shoals.  We  continued  our  course  with 
out  interruption,  however,  until  a  short  time  before 
daybreak,  when  we  ran  into  the  mouth  of  a  creek,  and 
concealed  the  boats  among  the  underwood. 

September  3  and  4,  During  both  of  these  days  it 
rained  and  blew  with  excessive  violence,  so  that  we  did 
not  leave  our  retreat  at  all.  The  weather  depressed 
our  spirits  very  much,  and  the  narratives  of  the  Cana 
dians  about  the  terrible  Sioux  did  not  serve  to  raise 
them.  We  all  congregated  in  the  cabin  of  the  large 
boat,  and  held  a  council  in  regard  to  our  future  move 
ments.  The  Greelys  were  for  a  bold  push  through  the 
dangerous  country,  maintaining  that  the  stories  of  the 
voyageurs  were  mere  exaggerations,  and  that  the  Sioux 
would  only  be  a  little  troublesome,  without  proceeding 
to  hostility.  Wormley  and  Thornton,  however,  as 
well  as  Pierre  (all  of  whom  had  much  experience  in 
the  Indian  character)  thought  that  our  present  policy 

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was  the  best,  although  it  would  necessarily  detain  us 
much  longer  on  our  voyage  than  would  otherwise  be 
the  case.  My  own  opinion  coincided  with  theirs;  in 
our  present  course  we  might  escape  any  collision  with 
the  Sioux,  and  I  did  not  regard  the  delay  as  a  matter 
of  consequence. 

September  5,  We  set  off  at  night,  and  proceeded  for 
about  ten  miles,  when  the  day  began  to  appear,  and 
we  hid  the  boats  as  before,  in  a  narrow  creek,  which 
was  well  adapted  to  the  purpose,  as  its  mouth  was 
almost  blocked  up  by  a  thickly-wooded  island.  It 
again  came  on  to  rain  furiously,  and  we  were  all 
drenched  to  the  skin  before  we  could  arrange  matters 
for  turning  in,  in  the  cabin.  Our  spirits  were  much 
depressed  by  the  bad  weather,  and  the  Canadians 
especially  were  in  a  miserable  state  of  dejection.  We 
had  now  come  to  a  narrow  part  of  the  river  where  the 
current  was  strong,  and  the  cliffs  on  both  sides  over 
hung  the  water,  and  were  thickly  wooded  with  lynn, 
oak,  black-walnut,  ash,  and  chestnut.  Through  such  a 
gorge  we  knew  it  would  be  exceedingly  difficult  to  pass 
without  observation,  even  at  night,  and  our  apprehen 
sions  of  attack  were  greatly  increased.  We  resolved 
not  to  recommence  our  journey  until  late,  and  then  to 
proceed  with  the  most  stealthy  caution.  In  the  mean 
time  we  posted  a  sentry  on  shore  and  one  in  the  piroque, 
while  the  rest  of  us  busied  ourselves  in  overhauling  the 
arms  and  ammunition,  and  preparing  for  the  worst* 

8? 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

About  ten  o'clock  we  were  getting  ready  to  start, 
when  the  dog  gave  a  low  growl,  which  made  us  all  fly 
to  our  rifles;  but  the  cause  of  the  disturbance  proved 
to  be  a  single  Indian  of  the  Ponca  tribe,  who  came  up 
frankly  to  our  sentry  on  shore,  and  extended  his  hand. 
We  brought  him  on  board,  and  gave  him  whiskey, 
when  he  became  very  communicative,  and  told  us  that 
his  tribe,  who  lived  some  miles  lower  down  the  river, 
had  been  watching  our  movements  for  several  days 
past,  but  that  the  Poncas  were  friends  and  would  not 
molest  the  whites,  and  would  trade  with  us  upon  our 
return.  They  had  sent  him  now  to  caution  the  whites 
against  the  Sioux,  who  were  great  robbers,  and  who 
were  lying  in  wait  for  the  party  at  a  bend  in  the  river, 
twenty  miles  farther  up.  There  were  three  bands  of 
them,  he  said,  and  it  was  their  intention  to  kill  us 
all,  in  revenge  for  an  insult  sustained  by  one  of  their 
chiefs,  many  years  previously,  at  the  hands  of  a  French 
trapper. 


CHAPTER  IV 

[WE  left  our  travellers,  on  the  fifth  of  September, 
apprehending  a  present  attack  from  the  Sioux.  Ex 
aggerated  accounts  of  the  ferocity  of  this  tribe  had  in 
spired  the  party  with  an  earnest  wish  to  avoid  them; 
but  the  tale  told  by  the  friendly  Ponca  made  it  evident 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

that  a  collision  must  take  place.  The  night  vogages 
were  therefore  abandoned  as  impolitic,  and  it  was 
resolved  to  put  a  bold  face  upon  the  matter,  and  try 
what  could  be  effected  by  blustering.  The  remainder  of 
the  night  of  the  fifth  was  spent  in  warlike  demonstra 
tion.  The  large  boat  was  cleared  for  action  as  well  as 
possible,  and  the  fiercest  aspect  assumed  which  the 
nature  of  the  case  would  permit.  Among  other  pre 
parations  for  defence,  the  cannon  was  got  out  from 
below,  and  placed  forward  upon  the  cuddy  deck,  with 
a  load  of  bullets,  by  way  of  canister  shot.  Just  before 
sunrise  the  adventurers  started  up  the  river  in  high 
bravado,  aided  by  a  heavy  wind.  That  the  enemy 
might  perceive  no  semblance  of  fear  or  mistrust,  the 
whole  party  joined  the  Canadians  in  an  uproarious 
boat-song  at  the  top  of  their  voices,  making  the  woods 
reverberate,  and  the  buffaloes  stare. 

The  Sioux,  indeed,  appear  to  have  been  Mr.  Rod 
man's  bugbears  par  excellence,  and  he  dwells  upon 
them  and  their  exploits  with  peculiar  emphasis.  The 
narrative  embodies  a  detailed  account  of  the  tribe,  an 
account  which  we  can  only  follow  in  such  portions  as 
appear  to  possess  novelty,  or  other  important  interest. 
"  Sioux  "  is  the  French  term  for  the  Indians  in  ques 
tion  ;  the  English  have  corrupted  it  into  "  Sues."  Their 
primitive  name  is  said  to  be  "  Darcotas."  Their  original 
seats  were  on  the  Mississippi,  but  they  had  gradually 
extended  their  dominions,  and,  at  the  date  of  the 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

Journal,  occupied  almost  the  whole  of  that  vast 
territory  circumscribed  by  the  Mississippi,  the  Saskatch- 
awine,  the  Missouri,  and  the  Red  River  of  Lake 
Winnipeg.  They  were  subdivided  into  numerous 
clans.  The  Darcotas  proper  were  the  Winowacants, 
called  the  Gens  du  Lac  by  the  French,  consisting  of 
about  five  hundred  warriors,  and  living  on  both  sides 
of  the  Mississippi,  in  the  vicinity  of  the  Falls  of  St. 
Anthony.  Neighbors  of  the  Winowacants,  and  residing 
north  of  them  on  the  river  St.  Peter's,  were  the  Wap- 
patomies,  about  two  hundred  men.  Still  farther  up 
the  St.  Peter's  lived  a  band  of  one  hundred,  called  the 
Wappytooties,  among  themselves,  and  by  the  French 
the  Gens  des  Feuilles.  Higher  up  the  river  yet,  and 
near  its  source,  resided  the  Sissytoonies,  in  number 
two  hundred  or  thereabouts.  On  the  Missouri  dwelt 
the  Yanktons  and  the  Tetons.  Of  the  first  tribe  there 
were  two  branches,  the  northern  and  southern,  of 
which  the  former  led  an  Arab  life  in  the  plains  at  the 
sources  of  the  Red,  Sioux,  and  Jacques  rivers,  being 
in  number  about  five  hundred.  The  southern  branch 
kept  possession  of  the  tract  lying  between  the  river 
Des  Moines  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  rivers  Jacques 
and  Sioux  on  the  other.  But  the  Sioux  most  renowned 
for  deeds  of  violence  are  the  Tetons;  and  of  these 
there  were  four  tribes :  the  Saonies,  the  Minnakenoz- 
zies,  the  Okydandies,  and  the  Bois-Brules.  These  last, 
a  body  of  whom  were  now  lying  in  wait  to  intercept 

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the  voyageurs,  were  the  most  savage  and  formidable  of 
the  whole  race,  numbering  about  two  hundred  men, 
and  residing  on  both  sides  of  the  Missouri  near  the 
rivers  called  by  Captains  Lewis  and  Clarke,  the  White 
and  Teton.  Just  below  the  Chayenne  River  were  the 
Okydandies,  one  hundred  and  fifty.  The  Minnake- 
nozzies,  two  hundred  and  fifty,  occupied  a  tract  between 
the  Chayenne  and  the  Watarhoo;  and  the  Saonies, 
the  largest  of  the  Teton  bands,  counting  as  many  as 
three  hundred  warriors,  were  found  hi  the  vicinity  of 
the  Warreconne. 

Besides  these  four  divisions  (the  regular  Sioux)  there 
were  five  tribes  of  seceders  called  Assiniboins;  the 
Menatopae  Assiniboins,  two  hundred,  on  Mouse  River, 
between  the  Assiniboin  and  the  Missouri ;  the  Gens  de 
Feuilles  Assiniboins,  two  hundred  and  fifty,  occupying 
both  sides  of  White  River ;  the  Big  Devils,  four  hun 
dred  and  fifty,  wandering  about  the  heads  of  Porcupine 
and  Milk  rivers ;  with  two  other  bands  whose  names  are 
not  mentioned,  but  who  roved  on  the  Saskatchawine, 
and  numbered  together  about  seven  hundred  men. 
These  seceders  were  often  at  war  with  the  parent  or 
original  Sioux. 

In  person,  the  Sioux  generally  are  an  ugly,  ill-made 
race,  their  limbs  being  much  too  small  for  the  trunk, 
according  to  our  ideas  of  the  human  form ;  their  cheek 
bones  are  high,  and  their  eyes  protruding  and  dull. 
The  heads  of  the  men  are  shaved,  with  the  exception  of 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

a  small  spot  on  the  crown,  whence  a  long  tuft  is  per 
mitted  to  fall  in  plaits  upon  the  shoulders ;  this  tuft  is 
an  object  of  scrupulous  care,  but  is  now  and  then  cut 
off,  upon  an  occasion  of  grief  or  solemnity.  A  full- 
dressed  Sioux  chief  presents  a  striking  appearance. 
The  whole  surface  of  the  body  is  painted  with  grease 
and  coal.  A  shirt  of  skins  is  worn  as  far  down  as  the 
waist,  while  round  the  middle  is  a  girdle  of  the  same 
material,  and  sometimes  of  cloth,  about  an  inch  in 
width ;  this  supports  a  piece  of  blanket  or  fur  passing 
between  the  thighs.  Over  the  shoulders  is  a  white- 
dressed  buffalo  mantle,  the  hair  of  which  is  worn  next 
the  skin  in  fair  weather,  but  turned  outwards  in  wet. 
This  robe  is  large  enough  to  envelop  the  whole  body, 
and  is  frequently  ornamented  with  porcupine  quills 
(which  make  a  rattling  noise  as  the  warrior  moves), 
as  well  as  with  a  great  variety  of  rudely  painted  figures, 
emblematical  of  the  wearer's  military  character.  Fast 
ened  to  the  top  of  the  head  is  worn  a  hawk's  feather, 
adorned  with  porcupine  quills.  Leggings  of  dressed 
antelope  skin  serve  the  purpose  of  pantaloons,  and 
have  seams  at  the  sides  about  two  inches  wide,  and 
bespotted  here  and  there  with  small  tufts  of  human 
hair,  the  trophies  of  some  scalping  excursion.  The 
moccasins  are  of  elk  or  buffalo  skin,  the  hair  worn 
inwards ;  on  great  occasions  the  chief  is  seen  with  the 
skin  of  a  polecat  dangling  at  the  heel  of  each  boot. 
The  Sioux  are  indeed  partial  to  this  noisome  animal, 

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whose  fur  is  in  high  favor  for  tobacco-pouches  and 
other  appendages. 

The  dress  of  a  chieftain's  squaw  is  also  remarkable. 
Her  hair  is  suffered  to  grow  long,  is  parted  across  the 
forehead,  and  hangs  loosely  behind,  or  is  collected  into 
a  kind  of  net.  Her  moccasins  do  not  differ  from  her 
husband's;  but  her  leggings  extend  upwards  only  as 
far  as  the  knee,  where  they  are  met  by  an  awkward 
shirt  of  elk  skin  depending  to  the  ankles,  and  supported 
above  by  a  string  going  over  the  shoulders.  This  shirt 
is  usually  confined  to  the  waist  by  a  girdle,  and  over 
all  is  thrown  a  buffalo  mantle  like  that  of  the  men. 
The  tents  of  the  Teton  Sioux  are  described  as  of  neat 
construction,  being  formed  of  white-dressed  buffalo 
hide,  well  secured  and  supported  by  poles. 

The  region  infested  by  the  tribe  in  question  extends 
along  the  banks  of  the  Missouri  for  some  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  or  more,  and  is  chiefly  prairie  land,  but  is 
occasionally  diversified  by  hills.  These  latter  are  always 
deeply  cut  by  gorges  or  ravines,  which  in  the  middle 
of  summer  are  dry,  but  form  the  channels  of  muddy 
and  impetuous  torrents  during  the  season  of  rain. 
Their  edges  are  fringed  with  thick  woods,  as  well  at  top 
as  at  bottom;  but  the  prevalent  aspect  of  the  country 
is  that  of  a  bleak  lowland,  with  rank  herbage,  and 
without  trees.  The  soil  is  strongly  impregnated  with 
mineral  substances  in  great  variety;  among  others 
with  glauber  salts,  copperas,  sulphur,  and  alum,  which 

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tinge  the  water  of  the  river  and  impart  to  it  a  nauseous 
odor  and  taste.  The  wild  animals  most  usual  are  the 
buffalo,  deer,  elk,  and  antelope.  We  again  resume 
the  words  of  the  Journal.] 

September  6,  The  country  was  open,  and  the  day 
remarkably  pleasant:  so  that  we  were  all  in  pretty 
good  spirits  notwithstanding  the  expectation  of  attack. 
So  far,  we  had  not  caught  even  a  glimpse  of  an  Indian, 
and  we  were  making  rapid  way  through  their  dreaded 
territory.  I  was  too  well  aware,  however,  of  the 
savage  tactics  to  suppose  that  we  were  not  narrowly 
watched,  and  had  made  up  my  mind  that  we  should 
hear  something  of  the  Tetons  at  the  first  gorge  which 
would  afford  them  a  convenient  lurking-place. 

About  noon  a  Canadian  bawled  out,  "  The  Sioux! 
the  Sioux  "  and  directed  attention  to  a  long  narrow 
ravine  which  intersected  the  prairie  on  our  left,  ex 
tending  from  the  banks  of  the  Missouri  as  far  as  the 
eye  could  reach,  in  a  southwardly  course.  This  gully 
was  the  bed  of  a  creek,  but  its  waters  were  now  low, 
and  the  sides  rose  up  like  huge  regular  walls  on  each 
side.  By  the  aid  of  a  spy-glass  I  perceived  at  once  the 
cause  of  the  alarm  given  by  the  voyageur,  A  large 
party  of  mounted  savages  were  coming  down  the 
gorge  in  Indian  file,  with  the  evident  intention  of 
taking  us  unawares.  Their  calumet  feathers  had  been 
the  means  of  their  detection ;  for  every  now  and  then 
we  could  see  some  of  these  bobbing  up  above  the  edge 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

of  the  gully,  as  the  bed  of  the  ravine  forced  the 
wearer  to  rise  higher  than  usual.  We  could  tell  that 
they  were  on  horseback  by  the  motion  of  these  feathers. 
The  party  was  coming  upon  us  with  great  rapidity; 
and  I  gave  the  word  to  pull  on  with  all  haste  so  as 
to  pass  the  mouth  of  the  creek  before  they  reached 
it.  As  soon  as  the  Indians  perceived  by  our  in 
creased  speed  that  they  were  discovered,  they  im 
mediately  raised  a  yell,  scrambled  out  of  the  gorge, 
and  galloped  down  upon  us,  to  the  number  of  about 
one  hundred. 

Our  situation  was  now  somewhat  alarming.  At 
almost  any  other  part  of  the  Missouri  which  we  had 
passed  during  the  day,  I  should  not  have  cared  so 
much  for  these  freebooters ;  but,  just  here,  the  banks 
were  remarkably  steep  and  high,  partaking  of  the 
character  of  the  creek  banks,  and  the  savages  were 
enabled  to  overlook  us  completely,  while  the  cannon, 
upon  which  we  had  placed  so  much  reliance,  could 
not  be  brought  to  bear  upon  them  at  all.  What 
added  to  our  difficulty  was  that  the  current  in  the 
middle  of  the  river  was  so  turbulent  and  strong  that 
we  could  make  no  headway  against  it  except  by 
dropping  arms,  and  employing  our  whole  force  at  the 
oars.  The  water  near  the  northern  shore  was  too  shal 
low  even  for  the  piroque,  and  our  only  mode  of  pro 
ceeding,  if  we  designed  to  proceed  at  all,  was  by 
pushing  hi  within  a  moderate  stone's  throw  of  the  left 

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or  southern  bank,  where  we  were  completely  at  the 
mercy  of  the  Sioux,  but  where  we  could  make  good 
headway  by  means  of  our  poles  and  the  wind,  aided  by 
the  eddy.  Had  the  savages  attacked  us  at  this  junc 
ture  I  cannot  see  how  we  could  have  escaped  them. 
They  were  all  well  provided  with  bows  and  arrows,  and 
small  round  shields,  presenting  a  very  noble  and  pic 
turesque  appearance.  Some  of  the  chiefs  had  spears, 
with  fanciful  flags  attached,  and  were  really  gallant- 
looking  men. 

Either  good  luck  upon  our  own  parts,  or  great  stu 
pidity  on  the  parts  of  the  Indians,  relieved  us  very  un 
expectedly  from  the  dilemma.  The  savages,  having 
galloped  up  to  the  edge  of  the  cliff  just  above  us,  set 
up  another  yell,  and  commenced  a  variety  of  gesticu 
lations,  whose  meaning  we  at  once  knew  to  be  that 
we  should  stop  and  come  on  shore.  I  had  expected 
this  demand,  and  had  made  up  my  mind  that  it  would 
be  most  prudent  to  pay  no  attention  to  it  at  all,  but 
proceed  on  our  course.  My  refusal  to  stop  had  at 
least  one  good  effect,  for  it  appeared  to  mystify  the 
Indians  most  wonderfully,  who  could  not  be  brought 
to  understand  the  measure  in  the  least,  and  stared  at 
us,  as  we  kept  on  our  way  without  answering  them,  in 
the  most  ludicrous  amazement.  Presently  they  com 
menced  an  agitated  conversation  among  themselves, 
and  at  last  finding  that  nothing  could  be  made  of  us, 
fairly  turned  their  horses'  heads  to  the  southward  and 

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galloped  out  of  sight,  leaving  us  as  much  surprised  as 
rejoiced  at  their  departure. 

In  the  meantime  we  made  the  most  of  the  oppor 
tunity,  and  pushed  on  with  might  and  main,  in  order 
to  get  out  of  the  region  of  steep  banks  before  the  antici 
pated  return  of  our  foes.  In  about  two  hours  we  again 
saw  them  in  the  south,  at  a  great  distance,  and  their 
number  much  augmented.  They  came  on  at  full 
gallop,  and  were  soon  at  the  river;  but  our  position 
was  now  much  more  advantageous,  for  the  banks  were 
sloping,  and  there  were  no  trees  to  shelter  the  savages 
from  our  shot.  The  current,  moreover,  was  not  so 
rapid  as  before,  and  we  were  enabled  to  keep  in  mid- 
channel.  The  party,  it  seems,  had  only  retreated  to 
procure  an  interpreter,  who  now  appeared  upon  a 
large  gray  horse,  and,  coming  into  the  river  as  far  as 
he  could  without  swimming,  called  out  to  us  in  bad 
French  to  stop,  and  come  on  shore.  To  this  I  made 
one  of  the  Canadians  reply  that,  to  oblige  our  friends 
the  Sioux,  we  would  willingly  stop  for  a  short  time, 
and  converse,  but  that  it  was  inconvenient  for  us  to 
come  on  shore,  as  we  could  not  do  so  without  incom 
moding  our  great  Medicine  (here  the  Canadian  pointed 
to  the  cannon),  who  was  anxious  to  proceed  on  his 
voyage,  and  whom  we  were  afraid  to  disobey. 

At  this  they  began  again  their  agitated  whisperings 
and  gesticulations  among  themselves,  and  seemed  quite 
at  a  loss  what  to  do.  In  the  meantime  the  boa.ts  had 

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been  brought  to  anchor  in  a  favorable  position,  and  I 
was  resolved  to  fight  now,  if  necessary,  and  endeavor 
to  give  the  freebooters  so  warm  a  reception  as  would 
inspire  them  with  wholesome  dread  for  the  future.  I 
reflected  that  it  was  nearly  impossible  to  keep  on  good 
terms  with  these  Sioux,  who  were  our  enemies  at  heart, 
and  who  could  only  be  restrained  from  pillaging  and 
murdering  us  by  a  conviction  of  our  prowess.  Should 
we  comply  with  their  present  demands,  go  on  shore, 
and  even  succeed  in  purchasing  a  temporary  safety  by 
concessions  and  donations,  such  conduct  would  not 
avail  us  in  the  end,  and  would  be  rather  a  palliation 
than  a  radical  cure  of  the  evil.  They  would  be  sure  to 
glut  their  vengeance  sooner  or  later,  and,  if  they 
suffered  us  to  go  on  our  way  now,  might  hereafter 
attack  us  at  a  disadvantage,  when  it  might  be  as  much 
as  we  could  do  to  repel  them,  to  say  nothing  of  inspiring 
them  with  awe.  Situated  as  we  were  here,  it  was  in 
our  power  to  give  them  a  lesson  they  would  be  apt 
to  remember;  and  we  might  never  be  in  so  good  a 
situation  again.  Thinking  thus,  and  all  except  the 
Canadians  agreeing  with  me  in  opinion,  I  determined 
to  assume  a  bold  stand,  and  rather  provoke  hostilities 
than  avoid  them.  This  was  our  true  policy.  The 
savages  had  no  firearms  which  we  could  discover,  ex 
cept  an  old  carbine  carried  by  one  of  the  chiefs;  and 
their  arrows  would  not  prove  very  effective  weapons 
when  employed  at  so  great  a  distance  as  that  now  be- 

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tween  us.  In  regard  to  their  number,  we  did  not  care 
much  for  that.  Their  position  was  one  which  would 
expose  them  to  the  full  sweep  of  our  cannon. 

When  Jules  (the  Canadian)  had  finished  his  speech 
about  incommoding  our  great  Medicine,  and  when  the 
consequent  agitation  had  somewhat  subsided  among 
the  savages,  the  interpreter  spoke  again  and  pro 
pounded  three  queries.  He  wished  to  know,  first, 
whether  we  had  any  tobacco,  or  whiskey,  or  fire-guns ; 
secondly,  whether  we  did  not  wish  the  aid  of  the  Sioux 
in  rowing  our  large  boat  up  the  Missouri  as  far  as  the 
country  of  the  Ricarees,  who  were  great  rascals ;  and, 
thirdly,  whether  our  great  Medicine  was  not  a  very 
large  and  strong  green  grasshopper. 

To  these  questions,  propounded  with  profound 
gravity,  Jules  replied,  by  my  directions,  as  follows: 
First,  that  we  had  plenty  of  whiskey,  as  well  as  tobacco, 
with  an  inexhaustible  supply  of  fire-guns  and  powder ; 
but  that  our  great  Medicine  had  just  told  us  that  the 
Tetons  were  greater  rascals  than  the  Ricarees;  that 
they  were  our  enemies;  that  they  had  been  lying  in 
wait  to  intercept  and  kill  us  for  many  days  past;  that 
we  must  give  them  nothing  at  all,  and  hold  no  inter 
course  with  them  whatever;  we  should  therefore  be 
afraid  to  give  them  anything,  even  if  so  disposed,  for 
fear  of  the  anger  of  the  great  Medicine,  who  was  not 
to  be  trifled  with.  Secondly,  that,  after  the  character 
just  given  the  Sioux  Tetons,  we  could  not  think  of 

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employing  them  to  row  our  boat;  and,  thirdly,  that  it 
was  a  good  thing  for  them  (the  Sioux)  that  our  great 
Medicine  had  not  overheard  their  last  query,  respecting 
the  "  large  green  grasshopper  " ;  for,  in  that  case,  it 
might  have  gone  very  hard  with  them  (the  Sioux). 
Our  great  Medicine  was  anything  but  a  large  green 
grasshopper,  and  that  they  should  soon  see,  to  their 
cost,  if  they  did  not  immediately  go,  the  whole  of  them, 
about  their  business. 

Notwithstanding  the  imminent  danger  in  which  we 
were  all  placed,  we  could  scarcely  keep  our  counte 
nances  in  beholding  the  air  of  profound  admiration  and 
astonishment  with  which  the  savages  listened  to  these 
replies ;  and  I  believe  that  they  would  have  immediately 
dispersed,  and  left  us  to  proceed  on  our  voyage,  had  it 
not  been  for  the  unfortunate  words  in  which  I  informed 
them  that  they  were  greater  rascals  than  the  Ricarees. 
This  was,  apparently,  an  insult  of  the  last  atrocity,  and 
excited  them  to  an  uncontrollable  degree  of  fury.  We 
heard  the  words  "  Ricaree !  Ricaree !  "  repeated,  every 
now  and  then,  with  the  utmost  emphasis  and  excite 
ment;  and  the  whole  band,  as  well  as  we  could  judge, 
seemed  to  be  divided  into  two  factions ;  the  one  urging 
the  immense  power  of  the  great  Medicine,  and  the  other 
the  outrageous  insult  of  being  called  greater  rascals 
than  the  Ricarees.  While  matters  stood  thus,  we  re 
tained  our  position  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  firmly 
resolved  to  give  the  villains  a  dose  of  our  canister- 

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shot,  upon  the  first  indignity  which  should  be  offered 
us. 

Presently,  the  interpreter  on  the  gray  horse  came 
again  into  the  river,  and  said  that  he  believed  we  were 
no  better  than  we  should  be ;  that  all  the  palefaces  who 
had  previously  gone  up  the  river  had  been  friends  of  the 
Sioux,  and  had  made  them  large  presents ;  that  they, 
the  Tetons,  were  determined  not  to  let  us  proceed  an 
other  step  unless  we  came  on  shore  and  gave  up  all 
our  fire-guns  and  whiskey,  with  half  of  our  tobacco ; 
that  it  was  plain  that  we  were  allies  of  the  Ricarees 
(who  were  now  at  war  with  the  Sioux),  and  that  our 
design  was  to  carry  them  supplies,  which  we  should 
not  do;  lastly,  that  they  did  not  think  very  much  of 
our  great  Medicine,  for  he  had  tcld  us  a  lie  in  relation 
to  the  designs  of  the  Tetons,  and  was  positively  noth 
ing  but  a  great  green  grasshopper,  in  spite  of  all  that 
we  thought  to  the  contrary.  These  latter  words,  about 
the  great  green  grasshopper,  were  taken  up  by  the 
whole  assemblage  as  the  interpreter  uttered  them,  and 
shouted  out  at  the  top  of  the  voice,  that  the  great 
Medicine  himself  might  be  sure  to  hear  the  taunt.  At 
the  same  time,  they  all  broke  into  wild  disorder,  gallop 
ing  their  horses  furiously  in  short  circles,  using  con 
temptuous  and  indecent  gesticulations,  brandishing 
their  spears,  and  drawing  their  arrows  to  the  head. 

I  knew  that  the  next  thing  would  be  an  attack,  and 
so  determined  to  anticipate  it  at  once,  before  any  of 

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our  party  were  wounded  by  the  discharge  of  their 
weapons;  there  was  nothing  to  be  gained  by  delay, 
and  everything  by  prompt  and  resolute  action.  As 
soon  as  a  good  opportunity  presented  itself,  the  word 
was  given  to  fire,  and  instantly  obeyed.  The  effect  of 
the  discharge  was  very  severe,  and  answered  all  our 
purposes  to  the  full.  Six  of  the  Indians  were  killed, 
and  perhaps  three  times  as  many  badly  wounded. 
The  rest  were  thrown  into  the  greatest  terror  and  con 
fusion  and  made  off  into  the  prairie  at  full  speed,  as 
we  drew  up  our  anchors,  after  reloading  the  gun,  and 
pulled  boldly  in  for  the  shore.  By  the  time  we  had 
reached  it,  there  was  not  an  unwounded  Teton  within 
sight. 

I  now  left  John  Greely,  with  three  Canadians,  in 
charge  of  the  boats,  landed  with  the  rest  of  the  men, 
and,  approaching  a  savage  who  was  severely  but  not 
dangerously  wounded,  held  a  conversation  with  him, 
by  means  of  Jules.  I  told  him  that  the  whites  were 
well  disposed  to  the  Sioux,  and  to  all  the  Indian 
nations;  that  our  sole  object  in  visiting  his  country 
was  to  trap  beaver,  and  see  the  beautiful  region  which 
had  been  given  the  red  men  by  the  Great  Spirit;  that 
when  we  had  procured  as  many  furs  as  we  wished,  and 
seen  all  we  came  to  see,  we  should  return  home; 
that  we  had  heard  that  the  Sioux,  and  especially  the 
Tetons,  were  a  quarrelsome  race,  and  that  therefore 
we  had  brought  with  us  our  great  Medicine  for  pro- 

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tection;  that  he  was  now  much  exasperated  with  the 
Tetons  on  account  of  their  intolerable  insult  in  calling 
him  a  green  grasshopper  (which  he  was  not) ;  that  I 
had  had  great  difficulty  in  restraining  him  from  a  pur 
suit  of  the  warriors  who  had  fled,  and  from  sacrificing 
the  wounded  who  now  lay  around  us ;  and  that  I  had 
only  succeeded  in  pacifying  him  by  becoming  personally 
responsible  for  the  future  good  behavior  of  the  savages. 
At  this  portion  of  my  discourse  the  poor  fellow  ap 
peared  much  relieved,  and  extended  his  hand  in  token 
of  amity.  I  took  it,  and  assured  him  and  his  friends 
of  my  protection  as  long  as  we  were  unmolested,  fol 
lowing  up  this  promise  by  a  present  of  twenty  carrots 
of  tobacco,  some  small  hardware,  beads,  and  red  flan 
nel,  for  himself  and  the  rest  of  the  wounded. 

While  all  this  was  going  on,  we  kept  a  sharp  look 
out  for  the  fugitive  Sioux.  As  I  concluded  making 
the  presents,  several  gangs  of  these  were  observable  hi 
the  distance,  and  were  evidently  seen  by  the  disabled 
savage;  but  I  thought  it  best  to  pretend  not  to  per 
ceive  them,  and  shortly  afterwards  returned  to  the 
boats.  The  whole  interruption  had  detained  us  full 
three  hours,  and  it  was  after  three  o'clock  when  we 
once  more  started  on  our  route.  We  made  extraordi 
nary  haste,  as  I  was  anxious  to  get  as  far  as  possible 
from  the  scene  of  action  before  night.  We  had  a 
strong  wind  at  our  back,  and  the  current  diminished 
hi  strength  as  we  proceeded,  owing  to  the  widening  of 

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the  stream.  We  therefore  made  great  way,  and  by 
nine  o'clock  had  reached  a  large  and  thickly  wooded 
island,  near  the  northern  bank,  and  close  by  the  mouth 
of  a  creek.  Here  we  resolved  to  encamp,  and  had 
scarcely  set  foot  on  shore,  when  one  of  the  Greelys 
shot  and  secured  a  fine  buffalo,  many  of  which  were 
upon  the  place.  After  posting  our  sentries  for  the 
night,  we  had  the  hump  for  supper,  with  as  much 
whiskey  as  was  good  for  us.  Our  exploit  of  the  day 
was  then  freely  discussed,  and  by  most  of  the  men  was 
treated  as  an  excellent  joke ;  but  I  could  by  no  means 
enter  into  any  merriment  upon  the  subject.  Human 
blood  had  never,  before  this  epoch,  been  shed  at  my 
hands;  and  although  reason  urged  that  I  had  taken 
the  wisest,  and  what  would  no  doubt  prove  in  the  end 
the  most  merciful  course,  still  conscience,  refusing  to 
hearken  even  to  reason  herself,  whispered  pertina 
ciously  within  my  ear:  "  It  is  human  blood  which 
thou  hast  shed."  The  hours  wore  away  slowly ;  I  found 
it  impossible  to  sleep.  At  length  the  morning  dawned, 
and  with  its  fresh  dews,  its  fresher  breezes,  and  smiling 
flowers,  there  came  a  new  courage  and  a  bolder  tone  of 
thought,  which  enabled  me  to  look  more  steadily  upon 
what  had  been  done,  and  to  regard  in  its  only  proper 
point  of  view  the  urgent  necessity  of  the  deed. 

September  7,  Started  early  and  made  great  way, 
with  a  strong  cold  wind  from  the  east.  Arrived  about 
noon  at  the  upper  gorge  of  what  is  called  the  Great 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

Bend,  a  place  where  the  river  performs  a  circuit  of  full 
thirty  miles,  while  by  land  the  direct  distance  is  not 
more  than  fifteen  hundred  yards.  Six  miles  beyond 
this  is  a  creek  about  thirty-five  yards  wide,  coming  in 
from  the  south.  The  country  here  is  of  peculiar  char 
acter;  on  each  side  of  the  river  the  shore  is  strewed 
thickly  with  round  stones  washed  from  the  bluffs,  and 
presenting  a  remarkable  appearance  for  miles.  The 
channel  is  very  shallow,  and  much  interrupted  with 
sand-bars.  Cedar  is  here  met  with  more  frequently 
than  any  other  species  of  timber,  and  the  prairies  are 
covered  with  a  stiff  kind  of  prickly  pear,  over  which 
our  men  found  it  no  easy  matter  to  walk  in  their 
moccasins. 

About  sunset,  in  endeavoring  to  avoid  a  rapid 
channel,  we  had  the  misfortune  to  run  the  larboard 
side  of  the  large  boat  on  the  edge  of  a  sand-bar,which 
so  heeled  us  over  that  we  were  very  near  getting  filled 
with  water,  in  spite  of  the  greatest  exertion.  As  it 
was,  much  damage  was  done  to  the  loose  powder,  and 
the  Indian  goods  were  all  more  or  less  injured.  As 
soon  as  we  found  the  boat  careening,  we  all  jumped 
into  the  water,  which  was  here  up  to  our  armpits, 
and  by  main  force  held  the  sinking  side  up.  But  we 
were  still  in  a  dilemma,  for  all  our  exertions  were 
barely  sufficient  to  keep  from  capsizing,  and  we  could 
not  spare  a  man  to  do  anything  towards  pushing  off. 
We  were  relieved,  very  unexpectedly,  by  the  sinking 

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of  the  whole  sand-bar  from  under  the  boat,  just  as  we 
were  upon  the  point  of  despair.  The  bed  of  the  river 
in  this  neighborhood  is  much  obstructed  by  these 
shifting  sands,  which  frequently  change  situations  with 
great  rapidity,  and  without  apparent  cause.  The  ma 
terial  of  the  bars  is  a  fine  hard  yellow  sand,  which, 
when  dry,  is  of  a  brilliant  glass-like  appearance,  and 
almost  impalpable. 

September  8.  We  were  still  in  the  heart  of  the  Teton 
country,  and  kept  a  sharp  lookout,  stopping  as  seldom 
as  possible,  and  then  only  upon  the  islands,  which 
abounded  with  game  in  great  variety — buffaloes,  elk, 
deer,  goats,  black-tailed  deer,  and  antelopes,  with 
plover  and  brant  of  many  kinds.  The  goats  are 
uncommonly  tame,  and  have  no  beard.  Fish  is  not  so 
abundant  here  as  lower  down  the  river.  A  white 
wolf  was  killed  by  John  Greely  in  a  ravine  upon  one 
of  the  smaller  islands.  Owing  to  the  difficult  naviga 
tion,  and  the  frequent  necessity  of  employing  the  tow- 
line,  we  did  not  make  great  progress  this  day. 

September  9,  Weather  growing  sensibly  colder, 
which  made  us  all  anxious  of  pushing  our  way  through 
the  Sioux  country,  as  it  would  be  highly  dangerous  to 
form  our  winter  encampment  in  their  vicinity.  We 
aroused  ourselves  to  exertion,  and  proceeded  rapidly, 
the  Canadians  singing  and  shouting  as  we  went. 
Now  and  then  we  saw,  in  the  extreme  distance,  a 
solitary  Teton,  but  no  attempt  was  made  to  molest  us, 

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and  we  began  to  gather  courage  from  this  circumstance. 
Made  twenty-eight  miles  during  the  day,  and  en 
camped  at  night,  in  high  glee,  on  a  large  island 
well-stocked  with  game,  and  thickly  covered  with 
cottonwood. 

[We  omit  the  adventures  of  Mr.  Rodman  from  this^ 
period  until  the  tenth  of  April.  By  the  last  of  October, 
nothing  of  importance  happening  in  the  interval,  the 
party  made  their  way  to  a  small  creek  which  they 
designated  as  Otter  Creek;  and,  proceeding  up  this 
about  a  mile  to  an  island  well  adapted  for  their  pur 
pose,  built  a  log  fort  and  took  up  their  quarters  for 
the  winter.  The  location  is  just  above  the  old  Ricara 
villages.  Several  parties  of  these  Indians  visited  the 
voyageurs,  and  behaved  with  perfect  friendliness ;  they 
had  heard  of  the  skirmish  with  the  Tetons,  the  result 
of  which  hugely  pleased  them.  No  further  trouble 
was  experienced  from  any  of  the  Sioux.  The  winter 
wore  away  pleasantly,  and  without  accident  of  note. 
On  the  tenth  of  April  the  party  resumed  their  voyage.] 


CHAPTER  V 

April  10,  1792,  The  weather  was  now  again  most 
delicious,  and  revived  our  spirits  exceedingly.  The  sun 
began  to  have  power,  and  the  river  was  quite  free  of 
ice,  so  the  Indians  assured  us,  for  a  hundred  miles 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

ahead.  We  bade  adieu  to  Little  Snake  (a  chief  of  the 
Ricarees  who  had  shown  the  voyageurs  many  evidences 
of  friendship  during  the  winter)  and  his  band,  with 
unfeigned  regret,  and  set  out,  after  breakfast,  on  our 
vo)rage.  Perrine  (an  agent  of  the  Hudson  Bay  Fur 
Company  on  his  way  to  Petite  Cote)  accompanied  us 
with  three  Indians  for  the  first  ten  miles,  when  he  took 
leave  of  us  and  made  his  way  back  to  the  village,  where 
(as  we  afterwards  heard)  he  met  with  a  violent  death 
from  the  hands  of  a  squaw,  to  whom  he  offered  some 
insult.  Upon  parting  with  the  agent,  we  pushed  on 
vigorously  up  the  river,  and  made  great  way,  notwith 
standing  a  rapid  current.  In  the  afternoon,  Thornton, 
who  had  been  complaining  for  some  days  past,  was 
taken  seriously  ill ;  so  much  so  that  I  urged  the  return 
of  the  whole  party  to  the  hut,  there  to  wait  until  he 
should  get  better ;  but  he  resisted  this  offer  so  strongly 
that  I  was  forced  to  yield.  We  made  him  a  comfort 
able  bed  in  the  cabin,  and  paid  him  every  attention; 
but  he  had  a  raging  fever,  with  occasional  delirium,  and 
I  was  much  afraid  that  we  should  lose  him.  In  the 
meantime  we  still  pushed  ahead  with  resolution,  and 
by  night  had  made  twenty  miles,  an  excellent  day's 
work. 

April  11,  Still  beautiful  weather.  We  started 
early,  and  had  a  good  wind,  which  aided  us  greatly; 
so  that,  but  for  Thornton's  illness,  we  should  all  have 
been  in  fine  spirits.  He  seemed  to  grow  much  worse, 

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and  I  scarcely  knew  how  to  act.  Everything  was  done 
for  his  comfort  which  could  be  done;  Jules,  the 
Canadian,  made  him  some  tea,  from  prairie  herbs, 
which  had  the  effect  of  inducing  perspiration,  and 
allayed  the  fever  very  sensibly.  We  stopped  at  night 
on  the  mainland  to  the  north,  and  three  hunters  went 
out  into  the  prairie  by  moonlight,  returning  at  one  in 
the  morning,  without  their  rifles,  and  with  a  fat 
antelope. 

They  related  that,  having  proceeded  many  miles 
across  the  country,  they  reached  the  banks  of  a  beauti 
ful  rivulet,  where  they  were  much  surprised  and  alarmed 
at  discovering  a  large  war-party  of  the  Saonie  Sioux, 
who  immediately  took  chem  prisoners,  and  carried 
them  a  mile  on  the  other  side  of  the  stream  to  a  kind 
of  park,  or  enclosure,  walled  with  mud  and  sticks,  in 
which  was  a  large  herd  of  antelopes.  These  animals 
were  still  coming  into  the  park,  the  gates  of  which 
were  so  contrived  as  to  prevent  escape.  This  was  an 
annual  practice  of  the  Indians.  In  the  autumn,  the 
antelopes  retire  for  food  and  shelter  from  the  prairie  to 
the  mountainous  regions  on  the  south  of  the  river. 
In  the  spring  tfc.ey  recross  it  in  great  numbers,  and 
are  then  easily  taken  by  being  enticed  into  a  strong 
enclosure  as  above  described. 

The  hunters  (John  Greely,  the  Prophet,  and  a 
Canadian)  had  scarcely  any  hope  of  escape  from  the 
clutches  of  the  Indians  (who  numbered  as  many  as 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

fifty),  and  had  well-nigh  made  up  their  minds  to  die. 
Greely  and  the  Prophet  were  disarmed  and  tied  hand  and 
foot;  the  Canadian,  however,  was  suffered,  for  some 
reason  not  perfectly  understood,  to  remain  unbound, 
and  was  only  deprived  of  his  rifle,  the  savages  leaving 
him  in  possession  of  his  hunter's  knife  (which,  possibly, 
they  did  not  perceive,  as  it  was  worn  in  a  sort  of  sheath 
in  the  side  of  his  legging) ,  and  treating  him  otherwise 
with  a  marked  difference  from  their  demeanor  to  the 
others.  This  circumstance  proved  the  source  of  the 
party's  deliverance. 

It  was,  perhaps,  nine  o'clock  at  night  when  they  were 
first  taken.  The  moon  was  bright,  but,  as  the  air  was 
unusually  cool  for  the  season,  the  savages  had  kindled 
two  large  fires  at  a  sufficient  distance  from  the  park 
not  to  frighten  the  antelopes,  who  were  still  pouring 
into  it  continually.  At  these  fires  they  were  occupied 
in  cooking  their  game  when  the  hunters  so  unex 
pectedly  came  upon  them  from  round  a  clump  of  trees. 
Greely  and  the  Prophet,  after  being  disarmed  and 
bound  with  strong  thongs  of  buffalo  hide,  were  thrown 
down  under  a  tree  at  some  distance  from  the  blaze; 
while  the  Canadian  was  permitted  to  seat  himself,  hi 
charge  of  two  savages,  by  one  of  the  fires,  the  rest  of 
the  Indians  forming  a  circle  round  the  other  and  larger 
one.  In  this  arrangement,  the  time  wore  away  slowly, 
and  the  hunters  were  in  momentary  expectation  of 
death;  the  cords  of  the  two  who  were  bound  caused 

no 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

them,  also,  infinite  pain,  from  the  tightness  with 
which  they  were  fastened.  The  Canadian  had  en 
deavored  to  hold  a  conversation  with  his  guards,  hi 
the  hope  of  bribing  them  to  release  him,  but  could 
not  make  himself  understood.  About  midnight,  the 
congregation  around  the  large  fire  were  suddenly  dis 
turbed  by  the  dash  of  several  large  antelopes  in 
succession  through  the  midst  of  the  blaze.  These  ani 
mals  had  burst  through  a  portion  of  the  mud  wall 
which  confined  them,  and,  mad  with  rage  and  affright, 
had  made  for  the  light  of  the  fire,  as  is  the  habit  of 
insects  at  night  in  like  circumstances.  It  seems,  how 
ever,  that  the  Saonies  had  never  heard  of  any  similar 
feat,  of  these  usually  timid  creatures,  for  they  were  in 
great  terror  at  the  unexpected  interruption,  and  their 
alarm  increased  to  perfect  dismay,  as  the  whole  cap 
tured  herd  came  rushing  and  bounding  upon  them, 
after  the  lapse  of  a  minute  or  so  from  the  outbreak  of 
the  first  few.  The  hunters  described  the  scene  as  one 
of  the  most  singular  nature.  The  beasts  were  appar 
ently  frantic,  and  the  velocity  and  impetuosity  with 
which  they  flew,  rather  than  leaped  through  the  flames, 
and  through  the  midst  of  the  terrified  savages,  was 
said  by  Greely  (a  man  not  in  the  least  prone  to  ex 
aggerate)  to  have  been  not  only  an  imposing  but  even 
a  terrible  spectacle.  They  carried  everything  before 
them  in  their  first  plunges;  but,  having  cleared  the 
large  fire,  they  immediately  dashed  at  the  small  one, 

in 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

scattering  the  brands  and  blazing  wood  about;  then 
returned,  as  if  bewildered,  to  the  large  one,  and  so 
backwards  and  forwards  until  the  decline  of  the  fires, 
when,  in  small  parties,  they  scampered  off  like  light 
ning  to  the  woods. 

Many  of  the  Indians  were  knocked  down  in  this 
furious  melee,  and  there  is  no  doubt  that  some  of  them 
were  seriously,  if  not  mortally,  wounded  by  the  sharp 
hoofs  of  the  agile  antelopes.  Some  threw  themselves 
flat  on  the  ground,  and  so  avoided  injury.  The 
Prophet  and  Greely,  not  being  near  the  fires,  were  in 
no  danger.  The  Canadian  was  prostrated  at  the  first 
onset  by  a  kick  which  rendered  him  senseless  for  some 
minutes.  When  he  came  to  himself  he  was  nearly  in 
darkness;  for  the  moon  had  gone  behind  a  heavy 
thunder-cloud,  and  the  fires  were  almost  out,  or  only 
existed  in  brands  scattered  hither  and  thither.  He  saw 
no  Indians  near  him,  and  instantly  arousing  himself  to 
escape,  made,  as  well  as  he  could,  for  the  tree  where 
his  two  comrades  were  lying.  Their  thongs  were 
soon  cut,  and  the  three  set  off  at  full  speed  in  the 
direction  of  the  river,  without  stopping  to  think  of 
their  rifles,  or  of  anything  beyond  present  security. 
Having  run  for  some  miles,  and  finding  no  one  in  pur 
suit,  they  slackened  their  pace,  and  made  their  way  to 
a  spring  for  a  draught  of  water.  Here  it  was  they 
met  with  the  antelope  which,  as  I  mentioned  before, 
they  brought  with  them  to  the  boats.  The  poor  crea- 

TI2 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

ture  lay  panting,  and  unable  to  move,  by  the  border 
of  the  spring.  One  of  its  legs  was  broken,  and  it  bore 
evident  traces  of  fire.  It  was  no  doubt  one  of  the 
herd  which  had  been  the  means  of  deliverance.  Had 
there  been  even  a  chance  of  its  recovery  the  hunters 
would  have  spared  it  in  token  of  their  gratitude,  but  it 
was  miserably  injured,  so  they  put  it  at  once  out  of  its 
misery,  and  brought  it  home  to  the  boats,  where  we 
made  an  excellent  breakfast  upon  it  next  morning. 

April  12,  13,  14,  and  15,  During  these  four  days 
we  kept  on  our  course  without  any  adventure  of  note. 
The  weather  was  very  pleasant  during  the  middle  of 
the  day,  but  the  nights  and  mornings  were  exceedingly 
cold,  and  we  had  sharp  frosts.  Game  was  abundant. 
Thornton  still  continued  ill,  and  his  sickness  perplexed 
and  grieved  me  beyond  measure.  I  missed  his  society 
very  much,  and  now  found  that  he  was  almost  the 
only  member  of  our  party  in  whom  I  could  strictly 
confide.  By  this  I  merely  mean  that  he  was  almost 
the  only  one  to  whom  I  could,  or  would,  freely  un 
burden  my  heart,  with  all  its  wild  hopes  and  fantastic 
wishes — not  that  any  individual  among  us  was  un 
worthy  of  implicit  faith.  On  the  contrary,  we  were 
all  like  brothers,  and  a  dispute,  of  any  importance, 
never  occurred.  One  interest  seemed  to  bind  all;  or 
rather  we  appeared  to  be  a  band  of  voyageurs  without 
interest  in  view,  mere  travellers  for  pleasure.  What 
ideas  the  Canadians  might  have  held  upon  this  subject 

VOL  iv.  —8.  * 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

I  cannot,  indeed,  exactly  say.  These  fellows  talked  a 
great  deal,  to  be  sure,  about  the  profits  of  the  enterprise, 
and  especially  about  their  expected  share  of  it ;  yet  I 
can  scarcely  think  they  cared  much  for  these  points, 
for  they  were  the  most  simple-minded,  and  certainly 
the  most  obliging  set  of  beings  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth.  As  for  the  rest  of  the  crew,  I  have  no  doubt 
in  the  world  that  the  pecuniary  benefit  to  be  afforded 
by  the  expedition  was  the  last  thing  upon  which  they 
speculated.  Some  singular  evidences  of  the  feeling 
which  more  or  less  pervaded  us  all  occurred  during 
the  prosecution  of  the  voyage.  Interests,  which,  in  the 
settlements,  would  have  been  looked  upon  as  of  the 
highest  importance,  were  here  treated  as  matters  un 
worthy  of  a  serious  word,  and  neglected,  or  totally  dis 
carded  upon  the  most  frivolous  pretext.  Men  who  had 
travelled  thousands  of  miles  through  a  howling  wilder 
ness,  beset  by  horrible  dangers,  and  enduring  the  most 
heartrending  privations  for  the  ostensible  purpose  of 
collecting  peltries,  would  seldom  take  the  trouble  to 
secure  them  when  obtained,  and  would  leave  behind 
them  without  a  sigh  an  entire  cache  of  fine  beaver 
skins  rather  than  forego  the  pleasure  of  pushing  up 
some  romantic-looking  river,  or  penetrating  into  some 
craggy  and  dangerous  cavern,  for  minerals  whose  use 
they  knew  nothing  about,  and  which  they  threw  aside 
as  lumber  at  the  first  decent  opportunity. 

In  all  this  my  own  heart  was  very  much  with  the 
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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

rest  of  the  party ;  and  I  am  free  to  say  that,  as  we 
proceeded  on  our  journey,  I  found  myself  less  and 
less  interested  in  the  main  business  of  the  expedition, 
and  more  and  more  willing  to  turn  aside  in  pursuit  of 
idle  amusement,  if  indeed  I  am  right  in  calling  by 
so  feeble  a  name  as  amusement  that  deep  and  most 
intense  excitement  with  which  I  surveyed  the  wonders 
and  majestic  beauties  of  the  wilderness.  No  sooner 
had  I  examined  one  region  than  I  was  possessed  with 
an  irresistible  desire  to  push  forward  and  explore  an 
other.  As  yet,  however,  I  felt  as  if  in  too  close  prox 
imity  to  the  settlements  for  the  full  enjoyment  of  my 
burning  love  of  nature  and  of  the  unknown.  I  could 
not  help  being  aware  that  some  civilized  footsteps, 
although  few,  had  preceded  me  in  my  journey;  that 
some  eyes  before  my  own  had  been  enraptured  with 
the  scenes  around  me.  But  for  this  sentiment,  ever 
obtruding  itself,  I  should  no  doubt  have  loitered  more 
frequently  on  the  way,  turning  aside  to  survey  the 
features  of  the  region  bordering  upon  the  river,  and 
perhaps  penetrating  deeply,  at  times,  into  the  heart  of 
the  country  to  the  north  and  south  of  our  route.  But 
I  was  anxious  to  go  on ;  to  get,  if  possible,  beyond  the 
extreme  bounds  of  civilization;  to  gaze,  if  I  could, 
upon  those  gigantic  mountains  of  which  the  existence 
had  been  made  known  to  us  only  by  the  vague  accounts 
of  the  Indians.  These  ulterior  hopes  and  views  I 
communicated  fully  to  no  one  of  our  party  save 

"5 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

Thornton.  He  participated  in  all  my  most  visionary 
projects,  and  entered  completely  into  the  spirit  of  the 
romantic  enterprise  which  pervaded  my  soul.  I  there 
fore  felt  his  illness  as  a  bitter  evil.  He  grew  worse 
daily,  while  it  was  out  of  our  power  to  render  him 
any  effectual  assistance. 

April  16.  To-day  we  had  a  cold  rain  with  a  high 
wind  from  the  north,  obliging  us  to  come  to  anchor 
until  late  in  the  afternoon.  At  four  o'clock  P.M.  we 
proceeded,  and  made  five  miles  by  night.  Thornton 
was  much  worse. 

April  17  and  18.  During  both  these  days  we  had 
a  continuance  of  raw,  unpleasant  weather,  with  the 
same  cold  wind  from  the  north.  We  observed  many 
large  masses  of  ice  in  the  river,  which  was  much 
swollen  and  very  muddy.  The  time  passed  unpleas 
antly,  and  we  made  no  way.  Thornton  appeared  to 
be  dying,  and  I  now  resolved  to  encamp  at  the  first 
convenient  spot,  and  remain  until  his  illness  should 
terminate.  We  accordingly,  at  noon  this  day,  drew 
the  boats  up  a  large  creek  coming  in  from  the  south 
and  formed  an  encampment  on  the  mainland. 

April  25,  We  remained  at  the  creek  until  this 
morning,  when,  to  the  great  joy  of  us  all,  Thornton 
was  sufficiently  recovered  to  go  on.  The  weather  was 
fine,  and  we  proceeded  gaily  through  a  most  lovely 
portion  of  the  country,  without  encountering  a  single 
Indian,  or  meeting  with  any  adventure  out  of  the 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

usual  course  until  the  last  of  the  month,  when  we 
reached  the  country  of  the  Mandans,  or  rather  of  the 
Mandans,  the  Minnetarees,  and  the  Ahnahaways;  for 
these  three  tribes  all  live  in  the  near  vicinity  of  each 
other,  occupying  five  villages.  Not  a  great  many 
years  ago  the  Mandans  were  settled  in  nine  villages, 
about  eighty  miles  below,  the  ruins  of  which  we  passed 
without  knowing  what  they  were, — seven  on  the  west 
and  two  on  the  east  of  the  river ;  but  they  were  thinned 
off  by  the  smallpox  and  their  old  enemies  the  Sioux, 
until  reduced  to  a  mere  handful,  when  they  ascended 
to  their  present  position.  [Mr.  R.  gives  here  a  toler 
ably  full  account  of  the  Minnetarees  and  Ahnahaways 
or  Wassatoons;  but  we  omit  it,  as  differing  hi  no 
important  particular  from  the  ordinary  statements 
respecting  these  nations.]  The  Mandans  received  us 
with  perfect  friendliness,  and  we  remained  hi  their 
neighborhood  three  days,  during  which  we  overhauled 
and  repaired  the  piroque,  and  otherwise  refitted.  We 
also  obtained  a  good  supply  of  hard  corn,  of  a  mixed 
color,  which  the  savages  had  preserved  through  the 
winter  in  holes  near  the  front  of  their  lodges.  While 
with  the  Mandans  we  were  visited  by  a  Minnetaree 
chief,  called  Waukerassah,  who  behaved  with  much 
civility,  and  was  of  service  to  us  in  many  respects. 
The  son  of  this  chief  we  engaged  to  accompany  us  as 
interpreter  as  far  as  the  great  fork.  We  made  the 
father  several  presents,  with  which  he  was  greatly 

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pleased.1  On  the  first  of  May  we  bade  adieu  to  the 
Mandans,  and  went  on  our  way. 

May  1,  The  weather  was  mild,  and  the  surrounding 
country  began  to  assume  a  lovely  appearance  with  the 
opening  vegetation,  which  was  now  much  advanced. 
The  cottonwood  leaves  were  quite  as  large  as  a  crown, 
and  many  flowers  were  full  blown.  The  low  grounds 
began  to  spread  out  here  more  than  usual,  and  were 
well  supplied  with  timber.  The  cottonwood  and  com 
mon  willow,  as  well  as  red  willow,  abounded;  with 
rose-bushes  in  great  plenty.  Beyond  the  low  grounds 
on  the  river,  the  country  extended  in  one  immense 
plain  without  wood  of  any  kind.  The  soil  was  remark 
ably  rich.  The  game  was  more  abundant  than  we 
had  ever  yet  seen  it.  We  kept  a  hunter  ahead  of  us 
on  each  bank,  and  to-day  they  brought  in  an  elk,  a 
goat,  five  beavers,  and  a  great  number  of  plovers.  The 
beavers  were  very  tame  and  easily  taken.  This  animal 
is  quite  a  bonne  bouche  as  an  article  of  food ;  especially 
the  tail,  which  is  of  a  somewhat  glutinous  nature,  like 
the  fins  of  the  halibut.  A  beaver  tail  will  suffice  for 
a  plentiful  dinner  for  three  men.  We  made  twenty 
miles  before  night. 

May  2,  We  had  a  fine  wind  this  morning,  and 
used  our  sails  until  noon,  when  it  became  rather  too 
much  for  us,  and  we  stopped  for  the  day.  Our  hunters 


1  The  chief  Waukerassah  is  mentioned  by  Captains   Lewis  and  Clarke, 
whom  he  also  visited. 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

went  out  and  shortly  returned  with  an  immense  elk 
whom  Neptune  had  pulled  down  after  a  long  chase, 
the  animal  having  been  only  slightly  wounded  by  a 
buckshot.  He  measured  six  feet  in  height.  An 
antelope  was  also  caught  about  dusk.  As  soon  as  the 
creature  saw  our  men,  it  flew  off  with  the  greatest 
velocity,  but  after  a  few  minutes  stopped,  and  returned 
on  its  steps,  apparently  through  curiosity,  then 
bounded  away  again.  This  conduct  was  repeated  fre 
quently,  each  time  the  game  coming  nearer  and 
nearer,  until  at  length  it  ventured  within  rifle  distance, 
when  a  shot  from  the  Prophet  brought  it  down.  It 
was  lean  and  with  young.  These  animals,  although 
of  incredible  swiftness  of  foot,  are  still  bad  swimmers, 
and  thus  frequently  fall  a  victim  to  the  wolves,  in 
their  attempts  to  cross  a  stream.  To-day  made  twelve 
miles. 

May  3,  This  morning  we  made  great  headway,  and 
by  night  had  accomplished  full  thirty  miles.  The 
game  continued  to  be  abundant. ^Buffaloes,  in  vast 
numbers,  lay  dead  along  the  shore,  and  we  saw  many 
wolves  devouring  the  carcasses.  They  fled  always  at 
our  approach.  We  were  much  at  a  loss  to  account 
for  the  death  of  the  buffaloes,  but  some  weeks  after 
wards  the  mystery  was  cleared  up.  Arriving  at  a  pass 
of  the  river  where  the  bluffs  were  steep  and  the  water 
deep  at  their  base,  we  observed  a  large  herd  of  the 
huge  beasts  swimming  across,  and  stopped  to  watch 

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their  motions.  They  came  in  a  sidelong  manner  down 
the  current,  and  had  apparently  entered  the  water  from 
a  gorge,  about  half  a  mile  above,  where  the  bank 
sloped  into  the  stream.  Upon  reaching  the  land  on 
the  west  side  of  the  river  they  found  it  impossible  to 
ascend  the  cliffs,  and  the  water  was  beyond  their  depth. 
After  struggling  for  some  time,  and  endeavoring  in 
vain  to  get  a  foothold  in  the  steep  and  slippery  clay, 
they  turned  and  swam  to  the  eastern  shore,  where  the 
same  kind  of  inaccessible  precipices  presented  them 
selves,  and  where  the  ineffectual  struggle  to  ascend 
was  repeated.  They  now  turned  a  second  time,  a  third, 
a  fourth,  and  a  fifth,  always  making  the  shore  at  very 
nearly  the  same  places.  Instead  of  suffering  them 
selves  to  go  down  with  the  current  in  search  of  a  more 
favorable  landing  (which  might  have  been  found  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  below),  they  seemed  bent  upon  main 
taining  their  position,  and,  for  this  purpose,  swam 
with  their  breasts  at  an  acute  angle  to  the  stream, 
and  used  violent  exertions  to  prevent  being  borne 
down.  At  the  fifth  time  of  crossing,  the  poor  beasts 
were  so  entirely  exhausted  that  it  was  evident  they 
could  do  no  more.  They  now  struggled  fearfully  to 
scramble  up  the  bank,  and  one  or  two  of  them  had 
nearly  succeeded,  when,  to  our  great  distress  (for  we 
could  not  witness  their  noble  efforts  without  com 
miseration),  the  whole  mass  of  loose  earth  above  caved 
in,  and  buried  several  of  them  in  its  fail,  without  leav- 

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ing  the  cliff  in  better  condition  for  ascent.  Upon  this 
the  rest  of  the  herd  commenced  a  lamentable  kind  of 
lowing  or  moaning,  a  sound  conveying  more  of  a  dis 
mal  sorrow  and  despair  than  anything  which  it  is  pos 
sible  to  imagine,  I  shall  never  get  it  out  of  my  head. 
Some  of  the  beasts  made  another  attempt  to  swim  the 
river,  struggled  a  few  minutes,  and  sank,  the  waves 
above  them  being  dyed  with  the  red  blood  that  gushed 
from  their  nostrils  hi  the  death  agony.  But  the  greater 
part,  after  the  moaning  described,  seemed  to  yield 
supinely  to  their  fate,  rolled  over  on  their  backs,  and 
disappeared.  The  whole  herd  was  drowned;  not  a 
buffalo  escaped.  Their  carcasses  were  thrown  up  in 
half  an  hour  afterwards  upon  the  flat  grounds  a  short 
distance  below,  where,  but  for  their  ignorant  obstinacy, 
they  might  so  easily  have  landed  in  safety. 

May  4,  The  weather  was  delightful,  and,  with  a 
fair  warm  wind  from  the  south,  we  made  twenty-five 
miles  before  night.  To-day  Thornton  was  sufficiently 
recovered  to  assist  in  the  duties  of  the  boat.  In  the 
afternoon  he  went  out  with  me  into  the  prairie  on  the 
west,  where  we  saw  a  great  number  of  early  spring 
flowers  of  a  kind  never  seen  in  the  settlements.  Many 
of  them  were  of  a  rare  beauty  and  delicious  perfume. 
We  saw  also  game  in  great  variety,  but  shot  none,  as 
we  were  sure  the  hunters  would  bring  in  more  than 
was  wanted  for  use,  and  I  was  averse  to  the  wanton 
destruction  of  life.  On  our  way  home  we  came  upon 

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two  Indians  of  the  Assiniboin  nation,  who  accompanied 
us  to  the  boats.  They  had  evinced  nothing  like  dis 
trust  on  the  way,  but,  on  the  contrary,  had  been  frank 
and  bold  in  demeanor;  we  were  therefore  much  sur 
prised  to  see  them,  upon  coming  within  a  stone's  throw 
of  the  piroque,  turn,  both  of  them,  suddenly  round, 
and  make  off  into  the  prairie  at  full  speed.  Upon 
getting  a  good  distance  from  us,  they  stopped  and, 
ascended  a  knoll  which  commanded  a  view  of  the 
river.  Here  they  lay  on  their  bellies,  and,  resting 
their  chins  on  their  hands,  seemed  to  regard  us  with 
the  deepest  astonishment.  By  the  aid  of  a  spy-glass  I 
could  minutely  observe  their  countenances,  which  bore 
evidence  of  both  amazement  and  terror.  They  con 
tinued  watching  us  for  a  long  time.  At  length,  as  if 
struck  with  a  sudden  thought,  they  arose  hurriedly 
and  commenced  a  rapid  flight  in  the  direction  from 
which  we  had  seen  them  issue  at  first. 

May  5.  As  we  were  getting  under  way  very  early 
this  morning,  a  large  party  of  Assiniboins  suddenly 
rushed  upon  the  boats,  and  succeeded  in  taking  posses 
sion  of  the  piroque  before  we  could  make  any  effectual 
resistance.  No  one  was  in  it  at  the  time  except  Jules, 
who  escaped  by  throwing  himself  into  the  river,  and 
swimming  to  the  large  boat,  which  we  had  pushed  out 
into  the  stream.  These  Indians  had  been  brought 
upon  us  by  the  two  who  had  visited  us  the  day  before, 
and  the  party  must  have  approached  us  in  the  most 

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stealthy  manner  imaginable,  as  we  had  our  sentries 
regularly  posted,  and  even  Neptune  failed  to  give  any 
token  of  their  vicinity. 

We  were  preparing  to  fire  upon  the  enemy  when 
Misquash  (the  new  interpreter — son  of  Waukerassah) 
gave  us  to  understand  that  the  Assiniboins  were  friends 
and  were  now  making  signals  of  amity.  Although  we 
could  not  help  thinking  that  the  highway  robbery  of 
our  boat  was  but  an  indifferent  way  of  evincing  friend 
ship,  still  we  are  willing  to  see  what  these  people  had 
to  say,  and  desired  Misquash  to  ask  them  why  they 
had  behaved  as  they  did.  They  replied  with  many 
protestations  of  regard;  and  we  at  length  found  that 
they  really  had  no  intention  of  molesting  us  any  further 
than  to  satisfy  an  ardent  curiosity  which  consumed 
them,  and  which  they  now  entreated  us  to  appease.  It 
appeared  that  the  two  Indians  of  the  day  before,  whose 
singular  conduct  had  so  surprised  us,  had  been  struck 
with  sudden  amazement  at  the  sooty  appearance  of  our 
negro,  Toby.  They  had  never  before  seen  or  heard  of 
a  blackamoor,  and  it  must  therefore  be  confessed  that 
their  astonishment  was  not  altogether  causeless.  Toby, 
moreover,  was  as  ugly  an  old  gentleman  as  ever 
spoke,  having  all  the  peculiar  features  of  his  race — the 
swollen  lips,  large  white  protruding  eyes,  flat  nose, 
long  ears,  double  head,  pot-belly,  and  bow  legs.  Upon 
relating  their  adventure  to  their  companions,  the  two 
savages  could  obtain  no  credit  for  the  wonderful  story, 

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and  were  about  losing  caste  forever,  as  liars  and 
double-dealers,  when  they  proposed  to  conduct  the 
whole  band  to  the  boats  by  way  of  vindicating  their 
veracity.  The  sudden  attack  seemed  to  have  been  the 
mere  result  of  impatience  on  the  part  of  the  still 
incredulous  Assiniboins;  for  they  never  afterwards 
evinced  the  slightest  hostility,  and  yielded  up  the 
piroque  as  soon  as  we  made  them  understand  that  we 
would  let  them  have  a  good  look  at  old  Toby.  The 
latter  personage  took  the  matter  as  a  very  good  joke, 
and  went  ashore  at  once,  in  naturalibus,  that  the  in 
quisitive  savages  might  observe  the  whole  extent  of 
the  question.  Their  astonishment  and  satisfaction 
were  profound  and  complete.  At  first  they  doubted  the 
evidence  of  their  own  eyes,  spitting  upon  tfceir  fingers 
and  rubbing  the  skin  of  the  negro  to  be  sure  that  it 
was  not  painted.  The  wool  on  the  head  elicited  re 
peated  shouts  of  applause,  and  the  bandy  legs  were  the 
subject  of  unqualified  admiration.  A  jig  dance  on  the 
part  of  our  ugly  friend  brought  matters  to  a  climax. 
Wonder  was  now  at  its  height.  Approbation  could 
go  no  further.  Had  Toby  but  possessed  a  single  spark 
of  ambition  he  might  then  have  made  his  fortune  for 
ever  by  ascending  the  throne  of  the  Assiniboins,  and 
reigning  as  King  Toby  the  First. 

This  incident  detained  us  until  late  in  the  day. 
After  interchanging  some  civilities  and  presents  with 
the  savages,  we  accepted  the  aid  of  six  of  the  band  in 

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rowing  us  about  five  miles  on  our  route,  a  very  accept 
able  assistance,  and  one  for  which  we  did  not  fail  to 
thank  Toby.  We  made,  to-day,  only  twelve  miles, 
and  encamped  at  night  on  a  beautiful  island  which  we 
long  remembered  for  the  delicious  fish  and  fowl  which 
its  vicinity  afforded  us.  We  stayed  at  this  pleasant  spot 
two  days,  during  which  we  feasted  and  made  merry, 
with  very  little  care  for  the  morrow,  and  with  very 
little  regard  to  the  numerous  beaver  which  disported 
around  us.  We  might  have  taken  at  this  island  one 
or  two  hundred  skins  without  difficulty.  As  it  was, 
we  collected  about  twenty.  The  island  is  at  the  mouth 
of  a  tolerably  large  river  coming  in  from  the  south, 
and  at  a  point  where  the  Missouri  strikes  off  in  a  due 
westerly  direction.  The  latitude  is  about  48. 

May  8,  We  proceeded  with  fair  winds  and  fine 
weather,  and  after  making  twenty  or  twenty-five  miles, 
reached  a  large  river  coming  in  from  the  north.  Where 
it  debouches,  however,  it  is  very  narrow,  not  more 
than  a  dozen  yards  wide,  and  appears  to  be  quite  choked 
up  with  mud.  Upon  ascending  it  a  short  distance, 
a  fine  bold  stream  is  seen,  seventy  or  eighty  yards 
wide,  and  very  deep,  passing  through  a  beautiful  val 
ley,  abounding  in  game.  Our  new  guide  told  us  the 
name  of  this  river,  but  I  have  no  memorandum  of  it.1 
Robert  Greely  shot  here  some  geese  which  build  thek 
nests  upon  trees. 

1  Probably  White-Earth  River. 

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May  9.  In  many  places  a  little  distant  from  the 
river  banks,  to-day,  we  observed  the  ground  encrusted 
with  a  white  substance  which  proved  to  be  a  strong 
salt.  We  made  only  fifteen  miles,  owing  to  several 
petty  hindrances,  and  encamped  at  night  on  the  main 
land,  among  some  clumps  of  cottonwood  and  rabbit- 
berry  bushes. 

May  10.  To-day  the  weather  was  cold,  and  the 
wind  strong,  but  fair.  We  made  great  headway. 
The  hills  in  this  vicinity  are  rough  and  jagged,  show 
ing  irregular  broken  masses  of  rock,  some  of  which 
tower  to  a  great  height,  and  appear  to  have  been 
subject  to  the  action  of  water.  We  picked  up  several 
pieces  of  petrified  wood  and  bone;  and  coal  was 
scattered  about  in  every  direction.  The  river  gets 
very  crooked. 

May  11,  Detained  the  greater  part  of  the  day  by 
squalls  and  rain.  Towards  evening  it  cleared  up 
beautifully  with  a  fair  wind,  of  which  we  took  advan 
tage,  making  ten  miles  before  encamping.  Several 
fat  beavers  were  caught,  and  a  wolf  was  shot  upon  the 
bank.  He  seemed  to  have  strayed  from  a  large  herd 
which  were  prowling  about  us. 

May  12,  Landed  to-day  at  noon,  after  making  ten 
miles,  upon  a  small  steep  island,  for  the  purpose  of 
overhauling  some  of  our  things.  As  we  were  about 
taking  our  departure,  one  of  the  Canadians,  who  led 
the  van  of  the  party  and  was  several  yards  in  advance, 

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suddenly  disappeared  from  our  view  with  a  loud 
scream.  We  all  ran  forward  immediately,  and  laughed 
heartily  upon  finding  that  our  man  had  only  tumbled 
into  an  empty  cache,  from  which  we  soon  extricated 
him.  Had  he  been  alone,  however,  there  is  much 
room  for  question  if  he  would  have  got  out  at  all.  We 
examined  the  hole  carefully,  but  found  nothing  hi  it 
beyond  a  few  empty  bottles ;  we  did  not  even  see  any 
thing  serving  to  show  whether  French,  British,  or 
Americans  had  concealed  their  goods  there ;  and  we  felt 
some  curiosity  upon  this  point. 

May  13,  Arrived  at  the  junction  of  the  Yellow 
stone  with  the  Missouri,  after  making  twenty-five 
miles  during  the  day.  Misquash  here  left  us,  and 
returned  home. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  character  of  the  country  through  which  we  had 
passed  for  the  last  two  or  three  days  was  cheerless  in 
comparison  with  that  to  which  we  had  been  accus 
tomed.  In  general  it  was  more  level ;  the  timber  being 
more  abundant  on  the  skirts  of  the  stream,  with  little 
or  none  at  all  hi  the  distance.  Wherever  bluffs  ap 
peared  upon  the  margin  we  descried  indications  of  coal, 
and  we  saw  one  extensive  bed  of  a  thick  bituminous 
nature  which  very  much  discolored  the  water  for  some 

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hundred  yards  below  it.  The  current  is  more  gentle 
than  hitherto,  the  water  clearer,  and  the  rocky  points 
and  shoals  fewer,  although  such  as  we  had  to  pass  were 
as  difficult  as  even  We  had  rain  incessantly,  which 
rendered  the  banks  so  slippery  that  the  men  who  had 
the  towing  lines  could  scarcely  walk.  The  air,  too, 
was  disagreeably  chilly,  and  upon  ascending  some  low 
hills  near  the  river  we  observ  ;d  no  small  quantity  of 
snow  lying  in  the  clefts  and  ridges.  In  the  extreme 
distance  on  our  right  we  had  perceived  several  Indian 
encampments  which  had  the  appearance  of  being 
temporary,  and  had  been  only  lately  abandoned. 
This  region  gives  no  indication  of  any  permanent  settle 
ment,  but  appears  to  be  a  favorite  hunting  ground 
with  the  tribes  in  the  vicinity,  a  fact  rendered  evident 
by  the  frequent  traces  of  the  hunt,  which  we  came 
across  in  every  direction.  The  Minnetarees  of  the 
Missouri,  it  is  well  known,  extend  their  excursions  in 
pursuit  of  game  as  high  as  the  great  fork,  on  the  south 
side;  while  the  Assiniboins  go  up  still  higher.  Mis- 
quash  informed  us  that  between  our  present  encamp 
ment  and  the  Rocky  Mountains  we  should  meet  with 
no  lodges  except  those  of  the  Minnetarees  that  reside 
on  the  lower  or  south  side  of  the  Saskatchawine. 

The  game  had  been  exceedingly  abundant,  and  in 
great  variety :  elk,  buffalo,  big-horn,  mule-deer,  bears, 
foxes,  beaver,  etc.,  etc.,  with  wild  fowl  innumerable. 
Fish  was  also  plentiful.  The  width  of  the  stream 

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varied  considerably  from  two  hundred  and  fifty  yards 
to  passes  where  the  current  rushed  between  bluffs  not 
more  than  a  hundred  feet  apart.  The  face  of  these 
bluffs  generally  was  composed  of  a  light  yellowish 
freestone  intermingled  with  burnt  earth,  pumice- 
stone,  and  mineral  salts.  At  one  point  the  aspect 
of  the  country  underwent  a  remarkable  change,  the 
hills  retiring  on  both  sides  to  a  great  distance  from  the 
river,  which  was  thickly  interspersed  with  small  and 
beautiful  islands,  covered  with  cottonwood.  The  low 
grounds  appeared  to  be  very  fertile ;  those  on  the  north 
wide  and  low,  and  opening  into  three  extensive  valleys. 
Here  seemed  to  be  the  extreme  northern  termination 
of  the  range  of  mountains  through  which  the  Missouri 
had  been  passing  for  so  long  a  time,  and  which  are 
called  the  Black  Hills  by  the  savages.  The  change 
from  the  mountainous  region  to  the  level  was  indicated 
by  the  atmosphere,  which  now  became  dry  and  pure; 
so  much  so  indeed  that  we  perceived  its  effects  upon  the 
seams  of  our  boats,  and  our  few  mathematical  instru 
ments. 

As  we  made  immediate  approach  to  the  forks  it 
came  on  to  rain  very  hard,  and  the  obstructions  in  the 
river  were  harassing  in  the  extreme.  The  banks  hi 
some  places  were  so  slippery,  and  the  clay  so  soft 
and  stiff,  that  the  men  were  obliged  to  go  barefooted, 
as  they  could  not  keep  on  their  moccasins.  The  shores 
also  were  full  of  pools  of  stagnant  water,  through 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

which  we  were  obliged  to  wade,  sometimes  up  to  oui 
armpits.  Then  again  we  had  to  scramble  over  enor 
mous  shoals  of  sharp-pointed  flints,  which  appeared 
to  be  the  wreck  of  cliffs  that  had  fallen  down  en  masse, 
Occasionally  we  came  to  a  precipitous  gorge  or  gully, 
which  it  would  put  us  to  the  greatest  labor  to  pass; 
and  in  attempting  to  push  by  one  of  these  the  rope  of 
the  large  boat  (being  old  and  much  worn)  gave  way  and 
permitted  her  to  be  swung  round  by  the  current  upon 
a  ledge  of  rock  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  where  the 
water  was  so  deep  that  we  could  only  work  in  getting 
her  off  by  the  aid  of  the  piroque,  and  so  were  full  six 
hours  in  effecting  it. 

At  one  period  we  arrived  at  a  high  wall  of  black 
rock  on  the  south,  towering  above  the  ordinary  cliffs 
for  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  along  the  stream ;  after 
which  there  was  an  open  plain,  and  about  three  miles 
beyond  this  again,  another  wall  of  a  light  color,  on 
the  same  side,  fully  two  hundred  feet  high;  then 
another  plain  or  valley,  and  then  still  another  wall  of 
the  most  singular  appearance  arises  on  the  north, 
soaring  in  height  probably  two  hundred  and  fifty  feet, 
and  being  in  thickness  about  twelve,  with  a  v  ery  regular 
artificial  character.  These  cliffs  present  indeed  the 
most  extraordinary  aspect,  rising  perpendicularly  from 
the  water.  The  last,  mentioned  are  composed  of  very 
white  soft  sandstone,  which  readily  receives  the  im* 
pression  of  the  water.  In  the  upper  portion  of  them 

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appears  a  sort  of  frieze  or  cornice  formed  by  the  inter 
vention  of  several  thin  horizontal  strata  of  a  white 
freestone,  hard,  and  unaffected  by  the  rains.  Above 
them  is  a  dark  rich  soil,  sloping  gradually  back  from 
the  water  to  the  extent  of  a  mile  or  thereabouts,  when 
other  hills  spring  up  abruptly  to  the  height  of  full  five 
hundred  feet  more. 

The  face  of  these  remarkable  cliffs,  as  might  be  sup 
posed,  is  checkered  with  a  variety  of  lines  formed  by 
the  trickling  of  the  rains  upon  the  soft  material,  so  that 
a  fertile  fancy  mighty  easily  imagine  them  to  be  gigan 
tic  monuments  reared  by  human  art,  and  carved  over 
with  hieroglyphical  devices.  Sometimes  there  are  com 
plete  niches  (like  those  we  see  for  statues  in  common 
temples)  formed  by  the  dropping  out  bodily  of  large 
fragments  of  the  sandstone;  and  there  are  several 
points  where  staircases  and  long  corridors  appear,  as 
accidental  fractures  in  the  freestone  cornice  happen 
to  let  the  rain  trickle  down  uniformly  upon  the  softer 
material  below.  We  passed  these  singular  bluffs  in  a 
bright  moonlight,  and  their  effect  upon  my  imagination 
I  shall  never  forget.  They  had  all  the  air  of  enchanted 
structures  (such  as  I  have  dreamed  of),  and  the  twitter 
ing  of  myriads  of  martins,  which  have  built  their  nests 
in  the  holes  that  everywhere  perforate  the  mass,  aided 
this  conception  not  a  little.  Besides  the  main  walls 
there  are,  at  intervals,  inferior  ones,  of  from  twenty 
to  a  hundred  feet  high,  and  from  one  to  twelve  of 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

fifteen  feet  thick,  perfectly  regular  in  shape,  and  per 
pendicular.  These  are  formed  of  a  succession  of  large 
black-looking  stones,  apparently  made  up  of  loam, 
sand,  and  quartz,  and  absolutely  symmetrical  in 
figure,  although  of  various  sizes.  They  are  usually 
square,  but  sometimes  oblong  (always  parallelipedal) , 
and  are  lying  one  above  the  other  as  exactly  and  with 
as  perfect  regularity  as  if  placed  there  by  some  mortal 
mason;  each  upper  stone  covering  and  securing  the 
point  of  junction  between  two  lower  ones,  just  as  bricks 
are  laid  in  a  wall.  Sometimes  these  singular  erections 
run  in  parallel  lines,  as  many  as  four  abreast;  some 
times  they  leave  the  river  and  go  back  until  lost  amid 
the  hills;  sometimes  they  cross  each  other  at  right 
angles,  seeming  to  enclose  large  artificial  gardens,  the 
vegetation  within  which  is  often  of  a  character  to  pre 
serve  the  illusion.  Where  the  walls  are  thinnest, 
there  the  bricks  are  less  in  size,  and  the  converse.  We 
regarded  the  scenery  presented  to  our  view  at  this 
portion  of  the  Missouri  as  altogether  the  most  sur 
prising,  if  not  the  most  beautiful,  which  we  had  yet 
seen.  It  left  upon  my  own  mind  an  impression  of 
novelty,  of  singularity,  which  can  never  be  effaced. 

Shortly  after  reaching  the  fork  we  came  to  a  pretty 
large  island  on  the  northern  side,  one  mile  and  a 
quarter  from  which  is  a  low  ground  on  the  south  very 
thickly  covered  with  fine  timber.  After  this  there 
were  several  small  islands,  at  each  of  which  we  touched 

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for  a  few  minutes  as  we  passed.  Then  we  came  to  a 
very  black-looking  bluff  on  the  north,  and  then  to  two 
other  small  islands,  about  which  we  observed  nothing 
remarkable.  Going  a  few  miles  farther  we  reached  a 
tolerably  large  island  situated  near  the  point  of  a  steep 
promontory,  afterwards  passing  two  others,  smaller. 
All  these  islands  are  well  timbered.  It  was  at  night, 
on  the  1 3th  of  May,  that  we  were  shown  by  Misquash 
the  mouth  of  the  large  river,  which  in  the  settlement 
goes  by  the  name  of  the  Yellow  Stone,  but  by  the 
Indians  is  called  the  Ahmateaza.1  We  made  our  camp 
on  the  south  shore  in  a  beautiful  plain  covered  with 
cottonwood. 

May  14,  This  morning  we  were  all  awake  and 
stirring  at  an  early  hour,  as  the  point  we  had  now 
reached  was  one  of  great  importance,  and  it  was 
requisite  that,  before  proceeding  any  farther,  we 
should  make  some  survey  by  way  of  ascertaining  which 
of  the  two  large  streams  in  view  would  afford  us  the 
best  passage  onward.  It  seemed  to  be  the  general 
wish  of  the  party  to  push  up  one  of  these  rivers  as 
far  as  practicable,  with  a  view  of  reaching  the  Rocky 
Mountains,  when  we  might  perhaps  hit  upon  the  head 
waters  of  the  large  stream  Aregan,  described  by  all 
the  Indians  with  whom  we  had  conversed  upon  the 

1  There  appears  to  be  some  discrepancy  here  which  we  have  not  thought 
it  worth  while  to  alter,  as,  after  all,  Mr.  Rodman  may  not  be  in  the  wrong. 
The  Amateaza  (according  to  the  narrative  of  Lewis  and  Clarke)  is  the  name 
given  by  the  Minnetarees,  not  to  the  Yellow  Stone,  but  to  the  Missouri  itself. 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

subject,  as  running  into  the  great  Pacific  Ocean.  I 
was  also  anxious  to  attain  this  object,  which  opened 
to  my  fancy  a  world  of  exciting  adventure,  but  I  fore 
saw  many  difficulties  which  we  must  necessarily  en 
counter  if  we  made  the  attempt  with  our  present 
limited  information  in  respect  to  the  region  we  should 
have  to  traverse,  and  the  savages  who  occupied  it; 
about  which  latter  we  only  knew  indeed  that  they  were 
generally  the  most  ferocious  of  the  North  American 
Indians.  I  was  afraid,  too,  that  we  might  get  into  the 
wrong  stream,  and  involve  ourselves  in  an  endless 
labyrinth  of  troubles  which  would  dishearten  the  men. 
These  thoughts,  however,  did  not  give  me  any  long 
uneasiness,  and  I  set  to  work  at  once  to  explore  the 
neighborhood ;  sending  some  of  the  party  up  the  banks 
of  each  stream  to  estimate  the  comparative  volume 
of  water  in  each,  while  I  myself,  with  Thornton  and 
John  Greely,  proceeded  to  ascend  the  high  grounds 
in  the  fork,  whence  an  extensive  prospect  of  the  sur 
rounding  region  might  be  attained.  We  saw  here  an 
immense  and  magnificent  country  spreading  out  on 
every  side  into  a  vast  plain,  waving  with  glorious 
verdure,  and  alive  with  countless  herds  of  buffaloes  and 
wolves,  intermingled  with  occasional  elk  and  antelope. 
To  the  south  the  prospect  was  interrupted  by  a  range 
of  high,  snow-capped  mountains,  stretching  from 
southeast  to  northwest,  and  terminating  abruptly. 
Behind  these  again  was  a  higher  range,  extending  to 

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the  very  horizon  in  the  northwest.  The  two  rivers 
presented  the  most  enchanting  appearance  as  they 
wound  away  their  long  snake-like  lengths  in  the  dis 
tance,  growing  thinner  and  thinner  until  they  looked 
like  mere  faint  threads  of  siVver  as  they  vanished  in  the 
shadowy  mists  of  the  sky.  We  could  glean  nothing, 
from  their  direction  so  far,  as  regards  their  ultimate 
course,  and  so  descended  from  our  position  much  at 
a  loss  what  to  do. 

The  examination  of  the  two  currents  gave  us  but 
little  more  satisfaction.  The  north  stream  was  found 
to  be  the  deeper,  but  the  south  was  the  wider,  and 
the  volume  of  water  differed  but  little.  The  first  had 
all  the  color  of  the  Missouri,  but  the  latter  had  the 
peculiar  round  gravelly  bed  which  distinguishes  a  river 
that  issues  from  a  mountainous  region.  We  were 
finally  determined  by  the  easier  navigation  of  the 
north  branch  to  pursue  this  course,  although  from  the 
rapidly  increasing  shallowness  we  found  that  in  a  few 
days,  at  farthest,  we  should  have  to  dispense  with  the 
large  boat.  We  spent  three  days  at  our  encampment, 
during  which  we  collected  a  great  many  fine  skins, 
and  deposited  them,  with  our  whole  stock  on  hand,  in 
a  well  constructed  cache  on  a  small  island  hi  the  river 
a  mile  below  the  junction.1  We  also  brought  hi  a 

1  Caches  are  holes  very  frequently  dug  by  the  trappers  and  fur  traders,  in 
which  to  deposit  their  furs  or  other  goods  during  a  temporary  absence.  A 
dry  and  retired  situation  is  first  selected.  A  circle  about  two  feet  in  diameter 
\s  then  described ;  the  sod  within  this  carefully  removed  and  laid  by.  A  hole 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

great  quantity  of  game,  and  especially  of  deer,  some 
haunches  of  which  we  pickled  or  corned  for  future  use. 
We  found  great  abundance  of  the  prickly  pear  in  this 
vicinity,  as  well  as  chokeberries  in  great  plenty  upon 
the  low  grounds  and  ravines.  There  were  also  many 
yellow  and  red  currants  (not  ripe),  with  gooseberries. 
Wild  roses  were  just  beginning  to  open  their  buds  in 
the  most  wonderful  profusion.  We  left  our  encamp 
ment  hi  fine  spirits  on  the  morning  of 

May  18,  The  day  was  pleasant,  and  we  proceeded 
merrily,  notwithstanding  the  constant  interruptions 
occasioned  by  the  shoals  and  jutting  points  with  which 
the  stream  abounds.  The  men,  one  and  all,  were 
enthusiastic  in  their  determination  to  persevere,  and 
the  Rocky  Mountains  were  the  sole  theme  of  conver 
sation.  In  leaving  our  peltries  behind  us,  we  had  con 
siderably  lightened  the  boats,  and  we  found  much  less 
difficulty  in  getting  them  forward  through  the  rapid 
currents  than  would  otherwise  have  been  the  case. 
The  river  was  crowded  with  islands,  at  nearly  all  of 
which  we  touched.  At  night  we  reached  a  deserted 


is  now  sunk  perpendicularly  to  the  depth  of  a  foot,  and  afterwards  gradually 
widened  until  the  excavation  becomes  eight  or  ten  feet  deep,  and  six  or  seven 
feet  wide.  As  the  earth  is  dug  up,  it  is  cautiously  placed  on  a  skin,  so  as  to 
prevent  any  traces  upon  the  grass,  and,  when  all  is  completed,  is  thrown  into 
the  nearest  river,  or  otherwise  effectually  concealed.  This  cache  is  lined 
throughout  with  dried  sticks  and  hay,  or  with  skins,  and  within  it  almost  any 
species  of  backwoods  property  may  be  safely  and  soundly  kept  for  years. 
When  the  goods  are  in,  and  well  covered  with  buffalo  hide,  earth  is  thrown 
upon  the  whole,  and  stamped  firmly  down.  Afterwards  the  sod  is  replaced, 
and  a  private  mark  made  upon  the  neighboring  trees,  or  elsewhere,  indicating 
the  precise  location  of  the  depot. 


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Indian  encampment,  near  bluffs  of  a  blackish  clay. 
Rattlesnakes  disturbed  us  very  much,  and  before  morn 
ing  we  had  a  heavy  rain. 

May  19,  We  had  not  proceeded  far  before  we 
found  the  character  of  the  stream  materially  altered, 
and  very  much  obstructed  by  sand-bars,  or  rather 
ridges  of  small  stones,  so  that  it  was  with  the  greatest 
difficulty  we  could  force  a  passage  for  the  larger  boat. 
Sending  two  men  ahead  to  reconnoitre,  they  returned 
with  an  account  of  a  wider  and  deeper  channel  above, 
and  once  again  we  felt  encouraged  to  persevere.  We 
pushed  on  for  ten  miles  and  encamped  on  a  small  island 
for  the  night.  We  observed  a  peculiar  mountain  hi 
the  distance  to  the  south,  of  a  conical  form,  isolated, 
and  entirely  covered  with  snow. 

May  20,  We  now  entered  into  a  better  channel, 
and  pursued  our  course  with  little  interruption  for  six 
teen  miles,  through  a  clayey  country  of  peculiar  char 
acter,  and  nearly  destitute  of  vegetation.  At  night 
we  encamped  on  a  very  large  island,  covered  with  tall 
trees,  many  of  which  were  new  to  us.  We  remained 
at  this  spot  for  five  days  to  make  some  repairs  in  the 
piroque. 

During  our  sojourn  here  an  incident  of  note  oc 
curred.  The  banks  of  the  Missouri  hi  this  neighbor 
hood  are  precipitous,  and  formed  of  a  peculiar  blue 
clay,  which  becomes  excessively  slippery  after  rain. 
The  cliffs,  from  the  bed  of  the  stream  back  to  the  dis- 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

tance  of  a  hundred  yards,  or  thereabouts,  form  a 
succession  of  steep  terraces  of  this  clay,  intersected  in 
numerous  directions  by  deep  and  narrow  ravines,  so 
sharply  worn  by  the  action  of  water  at  some  remote 
period  of  time  as  to  have  the  appearance  of  artificial 
channels.  The  mouths  of  these  ravines,  where  they 
debouche  upon  the  river,  have  a  very  .remarkable  ap 
pearance,  and  look  from  the  opposite  bank,  by  moon 
light,  like  gigantic  columns  standing  erect  upon  the 
shore.  To  an  observer  from  the  uppermost  terrace 
the  whole  descent  towards  the  stream  has  an  indes 
cribably  chaotic  and  dreary  air.  No  vegetation  of  any 
kind  is  seen. 

John  Greely,  the  Prophet,  the  interpreter  Jules,  and 
myself  started  out  after  breakfast  one  morning  to 
ascend  to  the  topmost  terrace  on  the  south  shore  for 
the  purpose  of  looking  around  us;  in  short,  to  see 
what  could  be  seen.  With  great  labor,  and  by  using 
scrupulous  caution,  we  succeeded  hi  reaching  the  level 
grounds  at  the  summit  opposite  our  encampment.  The 
prairie  here  differs  from  the  general  character  of  that 
kind  of  land  in  being  thickly  overgrown  for  many 
miles  back  with  cottonwood,  rose-bushes,  red  willow, 
and  broad-leaved  willow ;  the  soil  being  unsteady,  and 
at  times  swampy,  like  that  of  the  ordinary  low  grounds ; 
it  consists  of  a  black-looking  loam,  one  third  sand, 
and  when  a  handful  of  it  is  thrown  into  water,  it 
dissolves  in  the  manner  of  sugar,  with  strong  bubbles. 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

In  several  spots  we   observed  deep  incrustations  oi 
common  salt,  some  of  which  we  collected  and  used. 

Upon  reaching  these  level  grounds  we  all  sat  down 
to  rest,  and  had  scarcely  done  so  when  we  were  alarmed 
by  a  loud  growl  immediately  in  our  rear,  proceeding 
from  the  thick  underwood.  We  started  to  our  feet  at 
once  in  great  terror,  for  we  had  left  our  rifles  at  the 
island,  that  we  might  be  unencumbered  in  the  scramble 
up  the  cliffs,  and  the  only  arms  we  had  were  pistols 
and  knives.  We  had  scarcely  time  to  say  a  word  to 
each  other  before  two  enormous  brown  bears  (the  first 
we  had  yet  encountered  during  the  voyage)  came  rush 
ing  at  us  open-mouthed  from  a  clump  of  rose-bushes. 
These  animals  are  much  dreaded  by  the  Indians,  and 
with  reason,  for  they  are  indeed  formidable  creatures, 
possessing  prodigious  strength,  with  untamable  fero 
city,  and  the  most  wonderful  tenacity  of  life.  There 
is  scarcely  any  way  of  killing  them  by  a  bullet,  unless 
the  shot  be  through  the  brains,  and  these  are  defended 
by  two  large  muscles  covering  the  side  of  the  forehead, 
as  well  as  by  a  projection  of  a  thick  frontal  bone.  They 
have  been  known  to  live  for  days  with  half  a  dozen 
balls  through  the  lungs,  and  even  with  very  severe 
injuries  hi  the  heart.  So  far  we  had  never  met  with 
a  brown  bear,  although  often  with  its  tracks  in  the 
mud  or  sand,  and  these  we  had  seen  nearly  a  foot  in 
length,  exclusive  of  the  claws,  and  full  eight  inches 
in  width. 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

What  to  do  was  now  the  question.  To  stand  and 
fight,  with  such  weapons  as  we  possessed,  was  madness ; 
and  it  was  folly  to  think  of  escape  by  flight  in  the 
direction  of  the  prairie;  for  not  only  were  the  bears 
running  towards  us  from  that  quarter,  but,  at  a  very 
short  distance  back  from  the  cliffs,  the  underwood  of 
brier-bushes,  dwarf  willow,  etc.,  was  so  thick  that  we 
could  not  have  made  our  way  through  it  at  all,  and  if 
we  kept  our  course  along  the  river  between  the  under 
wood  and  the  top  of  the  cliff,  the  animals  would  catch 
us  in  an  instant ;  for  as  the  ground  was  boggy  we  could 
make  no  progress  upon  it,  while  the  large  flat  foot  of 
the  bear  would  enable  him  to  travel  with  ease.  It 
seemed  as  if  these  reflections  (which  it  takes  some 
time  to  embody  in  words)  flashed  all  of  them  through 
the  minds  of  all  of  us  in  an  instant;  for  every  man 
sprang  at  once  to  the  cliffs,  without  sufficiently  think 
ing  of  the  hazard  that  lay  there. 

The  first  descent  was  some  thirty  or  forty  feet,  and 
not  very  precipitous;  the  clay  here  also  partook  in  a 
slight  degree  of  the  loam  of  the  upper  soil ;  so  that  we 
scrambled  down  with  no  great  difficulty  to  the  first 
terrace,  the  bears  plunging  after  us  with  headlong  fury. 
Arrived  here,  we  had  not  a  moment  for  hesitation. 
There  was  nothing  left  for  us  now  but  to  encounter 
the  enraged  beasts  upon  the  narrow  platform  where  we 
stood,  or  to  go  over  the  second  precipice.  This 
was  nearly  perpendicular,  sixty  or  seventy  feet  deep, 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

and  composed  entirely  of  the  blue  clay  which  was  now 
saturated  with  late  rains,  and  as  slippery  as  glass  itself. 
The  Canadian,  frightened  out  of  his  senses,  leaped  to 
the  edge  at  once,  slid  with  the  greatest  velocity  down 
the  cliff,  and  was  hurled  over  the  third  descent  by  the 
impetus  of  his  course.  We  then  lost  sight  of  him,  and 
of  course  supposed  him  killed;  for  we  could  have  no 
doubt  that  his  terrific  slide  would  be  continued  from 
precipice  to  precipice  until  it  terminated  with  a  plunge 
over  the  last  into  the  river,  a  fall  of  more  than  a 
hundred  and  fifty  feet. 

Had  Jules  not  gone  in  this  way  it  is  more  than 
probable  that  we  should  all  have  decided,  in  our 
extremity,  upon  attempting  the  descent;  but  his  fate 
caused  us  to  waver,  and  in  the  meantime  the  monsters 
were  upon  us.  This  was  the  first  time  in  all  my  life 
I  had  ever  been  brought  to  close  quarters  with  a  wild 
animal  of  any  strength  or  ferocity,  and  I  have  no 
scruple  to  acknowledge  that  my  nerves  were  com 
pletely  unstrung.  For  some  moments  I  felt  as  if  about 
to  swoon,  but  a  loud  scream  from  Greely,  who  had 
been  seized  by  the  foremost  bear,  had  the  effect  of 
arousing  me  to  exertion,  and  when  once  fairly  aroused 
I  experienced  a  kind  of  wild  and  savage  pleasure  from 
the  conflict. 

One  of  the  beasts,  upon  reaching  the  narrow  ledge 
where  we  stood,  had  made  an  immediate  rush  at 
Greely,  and  had  borne  him  to  the  earth,  where  he  stood 


The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

over  him,  holding  him  with  his  huge  teeth  lodged 
in  the  breast  of  his  overcoat,  which,  by  the  greatest 
good  fortune,  he  had  worn,  the  wind  being  chilly. 
The  other,  rolling  rather  than  scrambling  down  the 
cliff,  was  under  so  much  headway  when  he  reached 
our  station  that  he  could  not  stop  himself  until  the 
one  half  of  his  body  hung  over  the  precipice;  he 
staggered  in  a  sidelong  manner,  and  his  right  legs 
went  over  while  he  held  on  in  an  awkward  way  with 
his  two  left.  While  thus  situated  he  seized  Wormley 
by  the  heel  with  his  mouth,  and  for  an  instant  I  feared 
the  worst,  for  in  his  efforts  to  free  himself  from  the 
grasp,  the  terrified  struggler  aided  the  bear  to  regain 
his  footing.  While  I  stood  helpless,  as  above  de 
scribed,  through  terror,  and  watching  the  event  with 
out  ability  to  render  the  slightest  aid,  the  shoe  and 
moccasin  of  Wormley  were  torn  off  in  the  grasp  of  the 
animal,  who  now  tumbled  headlong  down  to  the  next 
terrace,  but  stopped  himself,  by  means  of  his  huge 
claws,  from  sliding  farther.  It  was  now  that  Greely 
screamed  for  aid,  and  the  Prophet  and  myself  rushed 
to  his  assistance.  We  both  fired  our  pistols  at  the 
bear's  head;  and  my  own  ball,  I  am  sure,  must  have 
gone  through  some  portion  of  his  skull,  for  I  held  the 
weapon  close  to  his  ear.  He  seemed  more  angry, 
however,  than  hurt;  the  only  good  effect  of  the  dis 
charge  was  in  his  quitting  his  hold  of  Greely  (who  had 
sustained  no  injury)  and  making  at  us.  We  had 

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The  Journal  of  Julius  Rodman 

nothing  but  our  knives  to  depend  upon,  and  even  the 
refuge  of  the  terrace  below  was  cut  off  from  us  by  the 
presence  of  another  bear  there.  We  had  our  backs  to 
the  cliff,  and  were  preparing  for  a  deadly  contest,  not 
dreaming  of  help  from  Greely  (whom  we  supposed 
mortally  injured)  when  we  heard  a  shot,  and  the  huge 
beast  fell  at  our  feet,  just  when  we  felt  his  hot  and 
horribly  fetid  breath  in  our  faces.  Our  deliverer,  who 
had  fought  many  a  bear  in  his  lifetime,  had  put  his 
pistol  deliberately  to  the  eye  of  the  monster,  and  the 
contents  had  entered  the  brain. 

Looking  now  downwards,  we  discovered  the  fallen 
bruin  making  ineffectual  efforts  to  scramble  up  to  us, 
the  soft  clay  yielding  to  his  claws,  and  he  fell  repeatedly 
and  heavily.  We  tried  him  with  several  shots,  but  did 
no  harm,  and  resolved  to  leave  him  where  he  was  for 
the  crows.  I  do  not  see  how  he  could  ever  have  made 
his  escape  from  the  spot.  We  crawled  along  the  ledge, 
on  which  we  stood  for  nearly  half  a  mile  before  we 
found  a  practicable  path  to  the  prairie  above  us,  and 
did  not  get  into  camp  until  late  in  the  night.  Jules 
was  there  all  alive,  but  cruelly  bruised;  so  much  so, 
indeed,  that  he  had  been  unable  to  give  any  intelligible 
account  of  his  accident  or  of  our  whereabouts.  He 
had  lodged  in  one  of  the  ravines  upon  the  third  terrace, 
and  had  made  his  way  down  its  bed  to  the  river  shore 


The  Business  Man 

Method  is  the  soul  of  business. — Old  Saying, 


AM  a  business  man.  I  am  a  methodical 
man.  Method  is  the  thing,  after  all.  But 
there  are  no  people  I  more  heartily  despise 
than  your  eccentric  fools  who  prate  about  method 
without  understanding  it;  attending  strictly  to  its 
letter,  and  violating  its  spirit.  These  fellows  are 
always  doing  the  most  out-of-the-way  things  in  what 
they  call  an  orderly  manner.  Now  here,  I  conceive, 
is  a  positive  paradox.  True  method  appertains  to 
the  ordinary  and  the  obvious  alone,  and  cannot  be 
applied  to  the  outre,  What  definite  idea  can  a  body 
attach  to  such  expressions  as  "  methodical  Jack 
o'  Dandy,"  or  "  a  systematical  Will  o»  the  Wisp  "  ? 

My  notions  upon  this  head  might  not  have  been  so 
clear  as  they  are,  but  for  a  fortunate  accident  which 
happened  to  me  when  I  was  a  very  little  boy.  A 
good-hearted  old  Irish  nurse  (whom  I  shall  not  forget 
in  my  will)  took  me  up  one  day  by  the  heels,  when  I 


The  Business  Man 


was  making  more  noise  than  was  necessary,  and  swing 
ing  me  round  two  or  three  times,  d d  my  eyes  for 

"  a  skreeking  little  spalpeen,"  and  then  knocked  my 
head  into  a  cocked  hat  against  the  bedpost.  This,  I 
say,  decided  my  fate,  and  made  my  fortune.  A 
bump  arose  at  once  on  my  sinciput,  and  turned  out 
to  be  as  pretty  an  organ  of  order  as  one  shall  see  on  a 
summer's  day.  Hence  that  positive  appetite  for  sys 
tem  and  regularity  which  has  made  me  the  distin 
guished  man  of  business  that  I  am. 

If  there  is  anything  on  earth  I  hate,  it  is  a  genius. 
Your  geniuses  are  all  arrant  asses;  the  greater  the 
genius  the  greater  the  ass,  and  to  this  rule  there  is  no 
exception  whatever.  Especially,  you  cannot  make 
a  man  of  business  out  of  a  genius,  any  more  than 
money  out  of  a  Jew,  or  the  best  nutmegs  out  of  pine- 
knots.  The  creatures  are  always  going  off  at  a 
tangent  into  some  fantastic  employment,  or  ridiculous 
speculation,  entirely  at  variance  with  the  "  fitness  of 
things,"  and  having  no  business  whatever  to  be  con 
sidered  as  a  business  at  all.  Thus  you  may  tell  these 
characters  immediately  by  the  nature  of  their  occu 
pations.  If  you  ever  perceive  a  man  setting  up  as  a 
merchant  or  a  manufacturer ;  or  going  into  the  cotton 
or  tobacco  trade,  or  any  of  those  eccentric  pursuits; 
or  getting  to  be  a  dry-goods  dealer,  or  soap-boiler,  or 
something  of  that  kind ;  or  pretending  to  be  a  lawyer, 
or  a  blacksmith,  or  a  physician, — anything  out  of  the 

VOL.  IV,— 10. 


The  Business  Man 


usual  way, — you  may  set  him  down  at  once  as  a  genius^ 
and  then,  according  to  the  rule-of- three,  he  's  an  ass. 
Now  I  am  not  in  any  respect  a  genius,  but  a  regular 
business  man.  My  day-book  and  ledger  will  evince 
this  in  a  minute.  They  are  well  kept,  though  I  say  it 
myself;  and,  in  my  general  habits  of  accuracy  and 
punctuality,  I  am  not  to  be  beat  by  a  clock.  More 
over,  my  occupations  have  been  always  made  to 
chime  in  with  the  ordinary  habitudes  of  my  fellow- 
men.  Not  that  I  feel  the  least  indebted,  upon  this 
score,  to  my  exceedingly  weak-minded  parents,  who, 
beyond  doubt,  would  have  made  an  arrant  genius  of 
me  at  last,  if  my  guardian  angel  had  not  come,  in 
good  time,  to  the  rescue.  In  biography  the  truth  is 
everything,  and  in  autobiography  it  is  especially  so, 
yet  I  scarcely  hope  to  be  believed  when  I  state,  how 
ever  solemnly,  that  my  poor  father  put  me,  when  I 
was  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  into  the  counting- 
house  of  what  he  termed  "  a  respectable  hardware 
and  commission  merchant  doing  a  capital  bit  of  busi 
ness  !  "  A  capital  bit  of  fiddlestick !  However,  the 
consequence,  of  this  folly  was,  that  in  two  or  three 
days,  I  had  to  be  sent  home  to  my  button-headed 
family  in  a  high  state  of  fever,  and  with  a  most  violent 
and  dangerous  pain  in  the  sinciput,  all  round  about 
my  organ  of  order.  It  was  nearly  a  gone  case  with 
me  then,  just  touch-and-go  for  six  weeks,  the  physi 
cians  giving  me  up  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  But, 

146 


The  Business  Man 


although  I  suffered  much,  I  was  a  thankful  boy  in 
the  main.  I  was  saved  from  being  a  "  respectable 
hardware  and  commission  merchant  doing  a  capital 
bit  of  business,"  and  I  felt  grateful  to  the  protuberance 
which  had  been  the  means  of  my  salvation,  as  well  as 
to  the  kind-hearted  female  who  had  originally  put 
these  means  within  my  reach. 

The  most  of  boys  run  away  from  home  at  ten  or 
twelve  years  of  age,  but  I  waited  till  I  was  sixteen.  I 
don't  know  that  I  should  have  gone  even  then,  if  I 
had  not  happened  to  hear  my  old  mother  talk  about 
setting  me  up  on  my  own  hook  in  the  grocery  way. 
The  grocery  way!  only  think  of  that!  I  resolved  to 
be  off  forthwith,  and  try  and  establish  myself  in  some 
decent  occupation,  without  dancing  attendance  any 
longer  upon  the  caprices  of  these  eccentric  old  people, 
and  running  the  risk  of  being  made  a  genius  of  in  the 
end.  In  this  project  I  succeeded  perfectly  well  at  the 
first  effort,  and  by  the  time  I  was  fairly  eighteen,  found 
myself  doing  an  extensive  and  profitable  business  in 
the  Tailor's  Walking-Advertisement  line. 

I  was  enabled  to  discharge  the  onerous  duties  of 
this  profession  only  by  that  rigid  adherence  to  system 
which  formed  the  leading  feature  of  my  mind.  A 
scrupulous  method  characterized  my  actions  as  well 
as  my  accounts.  In  my  case,  it  was  method,  not 
money,  which  made  the  man;  at  least  all  of  him 
that  was  not  made  by  the  tailor  whom  I  served.  At 


The  Business  Man 


nine,  every  morning,  I  called  upon  that  individual  for 
the  clothes  of  the  day.  Ten  o'clock  found  me  in 
some  fashionable  promenade  or  other  place  of  public 
amusement.  The  precise  regularity  with  which  I 
turned  my  handsome  person  about,  so  as  to  bring 
successively  into  view  every  portion  of  the  suit  upon 
my  back,  was  the  admiration  of  all  the  knowing  men 
in  the  trade.  Noon  never  passed  without  my  bringing 
home  a  customer  to  the  house  of  my  employers, 
Messrs.  Cut  &  Comeagain.  I  say  this  proudly,  but 
with  tears  in  my  eyes,  for  the  firm  proved  themselves 
the  basest  of  ingrates.  The  little  account  about  which 
we  quarrelled  and  finally  parted  cannot,  in  any  item, 
be  thought  overcharged  by  gentlemen  really  conver 
sant  with  the  nature  of  the  business.  Upon  this  point, 
however,  I  feel  a  degree  of  proud  satisfaction  in  per 
mitting  the  reader  to  judge  for  himself.  My  bill  ran 
thus: 

Messrs,  Cut  &  Comeagain,  Merchant  Tailors, 

To  Peter  Proffit,  Walking  Advertiser.      Drs. 

July  10.  To  promenade,  as  usual,  and  custo 
mer  brought  home,  $00.25 

July  ii.  To  do  do  do  25 

July  12.  To   one  lie,   second   class;    damaged 
black    cloth    sold    for    invisible 
green,  25 

July  13.  To  one  lie,  first  class,  extra  quality 
and  size;  recommending  milled 
satinet  as  broadcloth,  75 

148 


The  Business  Man 


July  20.  To  purchasing  brand-new  paper 
shirt  collar  or  dickey,  to  set  off 
gray  Petersham,  2 

Aug0  15.  To  wearing  double-padded  bobtail 
frock  (thermometer  106  in  the 
shade),  25 

Aug0  10.  Standing  on  one  leg  three  hours,  to 
show  off  new-style  strapped  pants 
at  12  \  cents  per  leg  per  hour,  37  j 

Aug.  17.  To  promenade,  as  usual,  and  large 

customer  brought  (fat  man),  50 

Aug.  18.  To     do     do  (medium  size),  25 

Aug.  19.  To  do  do  (small  man  and  bad 

pay),  6 

$2.951 

The  item  chiefly  disputed  in  this  bill  was  the  very 
moderate  charge  of  two  pennies  for  the  dickey.  Upon 
my  word  of  honor,  this  was  not  an  unreasonable  price 
for  that  dickey.  It  was  one  of  the  cleanest  and  prettiest 
little  dickeys  I  ever  saw ;  and  I  have  good  reason  to 
believe  that  it  effected  the  sale  of  three  Petershams. 
The  elder  partner  of  the  firm,  however,  would  allow 
me  only  one  penny  of  the  charge,  and  took  it  upon 
himself  to  show  in  what  manner  four  of  the  same 
sized  conveniences  could  be  got  out  of  a  sheet  of 
foolscap c  But  it  is  needless  to  say  that  I  stood  upon 
the  principle  of  the  thing.  Business  is  business,  and 
should  be  done  in  a  business  way.  There  was  no 
system  whatever  in  swindling  me  out  of  a  penny  (a 

149 


The  Business  Man 


clear  fraud  of  fifty  per  cent),  no  method  in  any  respect 
I  left  at  once  the  employment  of  Messrs.  Cut  & 
Comeagain,  and  set  up  in  the  Eye-Sore  line  by  myself ; 
one  of  the  most  lucrative,  respectable,  and  independent 
of  the  ordinary  occupations. 

My  strict  integrity,  economy,  and  rigorous  business 
habits,  here  again  came  into  play.  I  found  myself 
driving  a  flourishing  trade,  and  soon  became  a  marked 
man  upon  "  Change."  The  truth  is,  I  never  dabbled 
in  flashy  matters,  but  jogged  on  in  the  good  old 
sober  routine  of  the  calling — a  calling  in  which  I 
should,  no  doubt,  have  remained  to  the  present  hour, 
but  for  a  little  accident  v/hich  happened  to  me  in 
the  prosecution  of  one  of  the  usual  business  operations 
of  the  profession.  Whenever  a  rich  old  hunks  or 
prodigal  heir,  or  bankrupt  corporation  gets  into  the 
notion  of  putting  up  a  palace,  there  is  no  such  thing 
in  the  world  as  stopping  either  of  them,  and  this 
every  intelligent  person  knows.  The  fact  in  question 
is  indeed  the  basis  of  the  Eye-Sore  trade.  As  soon, 
therefore,  as  a  building  project  is  fairly  afoot  by  one 
of  these  parties,  we  merchants  secure  a  nice  corner  of 
the  lot  in  contemplation,  or  a  prime  little  situation 
just  adjoining,  or  right  in  front.  This  done,  we  wait 
until  the  palace  is  half-way  up,  and  then  we  pay 
some  tasty  architect  to  run  us  up  an  ornamental  mud 
hovel,  right  against  it;  or  a  Down-East  or  Dutch 
pagoda,  or  a  pig-sty,  or  an  ingenious  little  bit  of  fancy 


The  Business  Man 


work,  either  Esquimaux,  Kickapoo,  or  Hottentot.  Of 
course  we  can't  afford  to  take  these  structures  down 
under  a  bonus  of  five  hundred  per  cent  upon  the  prime 
cost  of  our  lot  and  plaster.  Can  we  ?  I  ask  the  ques 
tion.  I  ask  it  of  business  men.  It  would  be  irrational 
to  suppose  that  we  can.  And  yet  there  was  a  rascally 
corporation  which  asked  me  to  do  this  very  thing, 
this  very  thing  I  I  did  not  reply  to  their  absurd  propo 
sition,  of  course;  but  I  felt  it  a  duty  to  go  that  same 
night,  and  lamp-black  the  whole  of  their  palace. 
For  this  the  unreasonable  villains  clapped  me  into 
jail;  and  the  gentlemen  of  the  Eye-Sore  trade  could 
not  well  avoid  cutting  my  connection  when  I  came 
out. 

The  Assault  and  Battery  business,  into  which  I  was 
now  forced  to  adventure  for  a  livelihood,  was  some 
what  ill-adapted  to  the  delicate  nature  of  my  consti 
tution;  but  I  went  to  work  in  it  with  a  good  heart, 
and  found  my  account  here,  as  heretofore,  in  those 
stern  habits  of  methodical  accuracy  which  had  been 
thumped  into  me  by  that  delightful  old  nurse ;  I  would 
indeed  be  the  basest  of  men  not  to  remember  her  well 
in  my  will.  By  observing,  as  I  say,  the  strictest  system 
in  all  my  dealings,  and  keeping  a  well-regulated  set 
of  books,  I  was  enabled  to  get  over  many  serious 
difficulties,  and,  in  the  end,  to  establish  myself  very 
decently  in  the  profession.  The  truth  is,  that  few 
individuals,  in  any  line,  did  a  snugger  little  business 


The  Business  Man 


than  I.  I  will  just  copy  a  page  or  so  out  of  my  day 
book;  and  this  will  save  me  the  necessity  of  blowing 
my  own  trumpet;  a  contemptible  practice  of  which 
no  high-minded  man  will  be  guilty.  Now,  the  day 
book  is  a  thing  that  don't  lie. 

"Jan.  L  New  Year's  day.  Met  Snap  in  the  street, 
groggy.  Mem. — he  '11  do.  Met  Gruff  shortly  after 
ward,  blind  drunk.  Mem. — he  '11  answer  too.  En 
tered  both  gentlemen  in  my  ledger,  and  opened  a 
running  account  with  each. 

"Jan,  2,  Saw  Snap  at  the  Exchange,  and  went  up 
and  trod  on  his  toe.  Doubled  his  fist  and  knocked 
me  down.  Good!  Got  up  again.  Some  trifling  diffi 
culty  with  Bag,  my  attorney.  I  want  the  damages  at 
a  thousand,  but  he  says  that  for  so  simple  a  knock 
down  we  can't  lay  them  at  more  than  five  hundred. 
Mem. — must  get  rid  of  Bag — no  system  at  all. 

"Jan,  3,  Went  to  the  theatre,  to  look  for  Gruff. 
Saw  him  sitting  in  a  side  box,  in  the  second  tier, 
between  a  fat  lady  and  a  lean  one.  Quizzed  the  whole 
party  through  an  opera-glass,  till  I  saw  the  fat  lady 
blush  and  whisper  to  G.  Went  round  then  into  the 
box,  and  put  my  nose  within  reach  of  his  hand. 
Would  n't  pull  it ;  no  go.  Blew  it,  and  tried  again ;  no 
go.  Sat  down  then,  and  winked  at  the  lean  lady, 
when  I  had  the  high  satisfaction  of  finding  him  lift 
me  up  by  the  nape  of  the  neck,  and  fling  me  over  into 
the  pit.  Neck  dislocated,  and  right  leg  capitally 


The  Business  Man 


splintered.  Went  home  in  high  glee,  drank  a  bottle 
of  champagne,  and  booked  the  young  man  for  five 
thousand.  Bag  says  it  '11  do. 

"  Feb,  15,  Compromised  the  case  of  Mr.  Snap. 
Amount  entered  in  journal,  fifty  cents,  which  see. 

"Feb,  16,  Cast  by  that  ruffian,  Gruff,  who  made 
me  a  present  of  five  dollars.  Costs  of  suit,  four  dol 
lars  and  twenty-five  cents.  Net  profit  (see  journal), 
seventy-five  cents." 

Now,  here  is  a  clear  gain,  in  a  very  brief  period, 
of  no  less  than  one  dollar  and  twenty-five  cents ;  this 
is  in  the  mere  cases  of  Snap  and  Gruff;  and  I  solemnly 
assure  the  reader  that  these  extracts  are  taken  at  ran 
dom  from  my  day-book. 

It  Js  an  old  saying,  and  a  true  one,  however,  that 
money  is  nothing  in  comparison  with  health.  I  found 
the  exactions  of  the  profession  somewhat  too  much 
for  my  delicate  state  of  body;  and,  discovering,  at 
last,  that  I  was  knocked  all  out  of  shape,  so  that  I 
did  n't  know  very  well  what  to  make  of  the  matter, 
and  so  that  my  friends,  when  they  met  me  in  the  street, 
could  n't  tell  that  I  was  Peter  Proffit  at  all,  it  occurred 
to  me  that  the  best  expedient  I  could  adopt  was  to  alter 
my  line  of  business.  I  turned  my  attention,  there 
fore,  to  Mud-Dabbling,  and  continued  it  for  some  years. 

The  worst  of  this  occupation  is,  that  too  many  people 
take  a  fancy  to  it,  and  the  competition  is  in  conse 
quence  excessive.  Every  ignoramus  of  a  fellow  who 

153 


The  Business  Man 


finds  that  he  has  n't  brains  in  sufficient  quantity  to 
make  his  way  as  a  walking  advertiser,  or  an  eye-sore 
prig,  or  a  salt-and-batter  man,  thinks,  of  course,  that 
he  '11  answer  very  well  as  a  dabbler  of  mud.  But 
there  never  was  entertained  a  more  erroneous  idea 
than  that  it  requires  no  brains  to  mud-dabble.  Es 
pecially,  there  is  nothing  to  be  made  in  this  way 
without  method.  I  did  only  a  retail  business  myself, 
but  my  old  habits  of  system  carried  me  swimmingly 
along.  I  selected  my  street-crossing,  in  the  first  place, 
with  great  deliberation,  and  I  never  put  down  a  broom 
in  any  part  of  the  town  but  that.  I  took  care,  too,  to 
have  a  nice  little  puddle  at  hand,  which  I  could  get 
at  in  a  minute.  By  these  means  I  got  to  be  well 
known  as  a  man  to  be  trusted;  and  this  is  one  half 
the  battle,  let  me  tell  you,  in  trade.  Nobody  ever 
failed  to  pitch  me  a  copper,  and  got  over  my  crossing 
with  a  clean  pair  of  pantaloons.  And,  as  my  business 
habits,  in  this  respect,  were  sufficiently  understood, 
I  never  met  with  any  attempt  at  imposition.  I 
would  n't  have  put  up  with  it,  if  I  had.  Never  im 
posing  upon  any  one  myself,  I  suffered  no  one  to 
play  the  possum  with  me.  The  frauds  of  the  banks 
of  course  I  could  n't  help.  Their  suspension  put  me 
to  ruinous  inconvenience.  These,  however,  are  not 
individuals,  but  corporations;  and  corporations,  it  is 
very  well  known,  have  neither  bodies  to  be  kicked  nor 
souls  to  be  damned. 

154 


The  Business  Man 


1  was  making  money  at  this  business  when,  in  an 
evil  moment,  I  was  induced  to  merge  in  the  Cur- 
Spattering,  a  somewhat  analogous,  but,  by  no  means, 
so  respectable  a  profession.  My  location,  to  be  sure, 
was  an  excellent  one,  being  central,  and  I  had  capital 
blacking  and  brushes.  My  little  dog,  too,  was  quite 
fat  and  up  to  all  varieties  of  snuff.  He  had  been  in 
the  trade  a  long  time,  and,  I  may  say,  understood  it. 
Our  general  routine  was  this:  Pompey,  having  rolled 
himself  well  in  the  mud,  sat  upon  end  at  the  shop 
door,  until  he  observed  a  dandy  approaching  in  bright 
boots.  He  then  proceeded  to  meet  him,  and  gave  the 
Wellingtons  a  rub  or  two  with  his  wool.  Then  the 
dandy  swore  very  much,  and  looked  about  for  a  boot 
black.  There  I  was,  full  in  his  view,  with  blacking 
and  brushes.  It  was  only  a  minute's  work,  and  then 
came  a  sixpence.  This  did  moderately  well  for  a  time ; 
in  fact,  I  was  not  avaricious,  but  my  dog  was.  I 
allowed  him  a  third  of  the  profit,  but  he  was  advised 
to  insist  upon  half.  This  I  could  n't  stand,  so  we 
quarrelled  and  parted. 

I  next  tried  my  hand  at  the  Organ-Grinding  for  a 
while,  and  may  say  that  I  made  out  pretty  well.  It  is 
a  plain,  straightforward  business,  and  requires  no  par 
ticular  abilities.  You  can  get  a  music-mill  for  a 
mere  song,  and  co  put  it  in  order,  you  have  but  to 
open  the  works,  and  give  them  three  or  four  smart 
raps  with  a  hammer.  It  improves  the  tone  of  the 

155 


The  Business  Man 


thing,  for  business  purposes,  more  than  you  can 
imagine.  This  done,  you  have  only  to  stroll  along, 
with  the  mill  on  your  back,  until  you  see  tan-bark  in 
the  street,  and  a  knocker  wrapped  up  in  buckskin. 
Then  you  stop  and  grind,  looking  as  if  you  meant  to 
stop  and  grind  till  doomsday.  Presently  a  window 
opens,  and  somebody  pitches  you  a  sixpence,  with  a 
request  to  "  Hush  up  and  go  on,"  etc.  I  am  aware 
that  some  grinders  have  actually  afforded  to  "  go  on  " 
for  this  sum;  but  for  my  part,  I  found  the  necessary 
outlay  of  capital  too  great  to  permit  of  my  "  going  on  " 
under  a  shilling. 

At  this  occupation  I  did  a  good  deal ;  but,  somehow, 
I  was  not  quite  satisfied,  and  so  finally  abandoned  it. 
The  truth  is,  I  labored  under  the  disadvantage  of 
having  no  monkey,  and  American  streets  are  so 
muddy,  and  a  democratic  rabble  is  so  obtrusive,  and 
so  full  of  demnition  mischievous  little  boys. 

I  was  now  out  of  employment  for  some  months,  but 
at  length  succeeded,  by  dint  of  great  interest,  in  pro 
curing  a  situation  in  the  Sham-Post.  The  duties 
here  are  simple,  and  not  altogether  unprofitable.  For 
example :  very  early  in  xhe  morning  I  had  to  make  up 
my  packet  of  sham  letters.  Upon  the  inside  of  each 
of  these  I  had  to  scrawl  a  few  lines,  on  any  subject 
which  occurred  to  me  as  sufficiently  mysterious,  sign 
ing  all  the  epistles  Tom  Dobson,  or  Bobby  Tompkins, 
or  anything  in  that  way.  Having  folded  and  sealed 

156 


The  Business  Man 


all,  and  stamped  them  with  sham  postmarks — New 
Orleans,  Bengal,  Botany  Bay,  or  any  other  place  a 
great  way  off,  I  set  out,  forthwith,  upon  my  daily 
route,  as  if  in  a  very  great  hurry.  I  always  called  at 
the  big  houses  to  deliver  the  letters,  and  receive  the 
postage.  Nobody  hesitates  at  paying  for  a  letter, 
especially  for  a  double  one  (people  are  such  fools),  and 
it  was  no  trouble  to  get  round  a  corner  before  there 
was  time  to  open  the  epistles.  The  worst  of  this  pro 
fession  was,  that  I  had  to  walk  so  much  and  so  fast, 
and  so  frequently  to  vary  my  route.  Besides,  I  had 
serious  scruples  of  conscience.  I  can't  bear  to  hear 
innocent  individuals  abused,  and  the  way  the  whole 
town  took  to  cursing  Tom  Dobson  and  Bobby  Tomp- 
kins  was  really  awful  to  hear.  I  washed  my  hands 
of  the  matter  in  disgust. 

My  eighth  and  last  speculation  has  been  in  the 
Cat-Growing  way.  I  have  found  this  a  most  pleasant 
and  lucrative  business,  and,  really,  no  trouble  at  all. 
The  country,  it  is  well  known,  has  become  infested 
with  cats,  so  much  so  of  late,  that  a  petition  for  re 
lief,  most  numerously  and  respectably  signed,  was 
brought  before  the  Legislature  at  its  late  memorable 
session.  The  Assembly,  at  this  epoch,  was  unusually 
well-informed,  and,  having  passed  many  other  wise 
and  wholesome  enactments,  it  crowned  all  with  the 
Cat  Act.  In  its  original  form,  this  law  offered  a  pre 
mium  for  cat-heads  (fourpence  apiece),  but  the 

J57 


The  Business  Man 


Senate  succeeded  in  amending  the  main  clause,  so 
as  to  substitute  the  word  "  tails  "  for  "  heads."  This 
amendment  was  so  obviously  proper,  that  the  House 
concurred  in  it  nem,  con. 

As  soon  as  the  Governor  had  signed  the  bill,  I 
invested  my  whole  estate  in  the  purchase  of  Toms 
and  Tabbies.  At  first  I  could  only  afford  10  feed 
them  upon  mice  (which  are  cheap),  but  they  fulfilled 
the  scriptural  injunction  at  so  marvellous  a  rate  that 
I  at  length  considered  it  my  best  policy  to  be  liberal, 
and  so  indulged  them  in  oysters  and  turtle.  Their 
tails,  at  a  legislative  price,  now  bring  me  in  a  good 
income;  for  I  have  discovered  a  way,  in  which,  by 
means  of  Macassar  oil,  I  can  force  three  crops  in  a 
year.  It  delights  me  to  find,  too,  that  the  animals 
soon  get  accustomed  to  the  thing,  and  would  rather 
have  the  appendages  cut  off  than  otherwise.  I  con 
sider  myself,  therefore,  a  made  man,  and  am  bar- 
gaining  for  a  country-seat  on  the  Hudson. 


158 


\L'  ""'•--*-  -  -ah-  ' 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


Ce  grand  malheur  v  de  ne  pouvoir  £tre  seul. — LA  BRUY^RE. 


T  was  well  said  of  a  certain  German  book 
that  "  es  lasst  sich  nicht  lesen,"  it  does  not 
permit  itself  to  be  read.  There  are  some 
secrets  which  do  not  permit  themselves  to  be  told. 
Men  die  nightly  in  their  beds,  wringing  the  hands  of 
ghostly  confessors,  and  looking  them  piteously  in  the 
eyes;  die  with  despair  of  heart  and  convulsion  of 
throat,  on  account  of  the  hideousness  of  mysteries 
which  will  not  surfer  themselves  to  be  revealed.  Now 
and  then,  alas,  the  conscience  of  man  takes  up  a  burden 
so  heavy  in  horror  that  it  can  be  thrown  down  only 
into  the  grave „  And  thus  the  essence  of  all  crime 
is  undivulged. 

Not  long  ago,  about  the  closing  in  of  an  evening  in 
autumn,  I  sat  at  the  large  bow  window  of  the  D 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


Coffee-House  in  London.  For  some  months  I  had 
been  ill  in  health,  but  was  now  convalescent,  and, 
with  returning  strength,  found  myself  in  one  of  those 
happy  moods  which  are  so  precisely  the  converse  of 
ennui  i  moods  of  the  keenest  appetency,  when  the 
film  from  the  mental  vision  departs, — the  a^Xvs  rj 
irplv  cirfjsv, — and  the  intellect,  electrified,  surpasses 
as  greatly  its  every-day  condition  as  does  the  vivid 
yet  candid  reason  of  Leibnitz  the  mad  and  flimsy 
rhetoric  of  Gorgias.  Merely  to  breathe  was  enjoy 
ment;  and  I  derived  positive  pleasure  even  from 
many  of  the  legitimate  sources  of  pain.  I  felt  a 
calm  but  inquisitive  interest  in  everything.  With  a 
cigar  in  my  mouth  and  a  newspaper  in  my  lap,  I  had 
been  amusing  myself  for  the  greater  part  of  the  after 
noon,  now  in  poring  over  advertisements,  now  in 
observing  the  promiscuous  company  in  the  room,  and 
now  in  peering  through  the  smoky  panes  into  the 
street. 

This  latter  is  one  of  the  principal  thoroughfares  of 
the  city,  and  had  been  very  much  crowded  during  the 
whole  day.  But,  as  the  darkness  came  on,  the  throng 
momently  increased ;  and,  by  the  time  the  lamps  were 
well  lighted,  two  dense  and  continuous  tides  of  popu 
lation  were  rushing  past  the  door.  At  this  particular 
period  of  the  evening  I  had  never  before  been  in  a 
similar  situation,  and  the  tumultuous  sea  of  human 
heads  filled  me,  therefore,  with  a  delicious  novelty  of 

160 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


emotion.  I  gave  up,  at  length,  all  care  of  things 
within  the  hotel,  and  became  absorbed  in  contempla 
tion  of  the  scene  without. 

At  first  my  observations  took  an  abstract  and 
generalizing  turn.  I  looked  at  the  passengers  in 
masses,  and  thought  of  them  in  their  aggregate  re 
lations.  Soon,  however,  I  descended  to  details,  and 
regarded  with  minute  interest  the  innumerable  varie 
ties  of  figure,  dress,  air,  gait,  visage,  and  expression 
of  countenance. 

By  far  the  greater  number  of  those  who  went  by 
had  a  satisfied,  business-like  demeanor,  and  seemed 
to  be  thinking  only  of  making  their  way  through  the 
press.  Their  brows  were  knit,  and  their  eyes  rolled 
quickly;  when  pushed  against  by  fellow- wayfarers 
they  evinced  no  symptom  of  impatience,  but  adjusted 
their  clothes  and  hurried  on.  Others,  still  a  numerous 
class,  were  restless  in  their  movements,  had  flushed 
faces,  and  talked  and  gesticulated  to  themselves,  as  if 
feeling  in  solitude  on  account  of  the  very  denseness 
of  the  company  around.  When  impeded  in  their  pro 
gress,  these  people  suddenly  ceased  muttering,  but 
redoubled  their  gesticulations,  and  awaited,  with,  an 
absent  and  overdone  smile  upon  the  lips,  the  course  of 
the  persons  impeding  them.  If  jostled,  they  bowed 
profusely  to  the  j ostlers,  and  appeared  overwhelmed 
with  confusion.  There  was  nothing  very  distinctive 
about  these  two  large  classes  beyond  what  I  have 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


noted.  Their  habiliments  belonged  to  that  order 
which  is  pointedly  termed  the  decent.  They  were 
undoubtedly  noblemen,  merchants,  attorneys,  trades 
men,  stock-jobbers,  the  eupatrids  and  the  common 
places  of  society,  men  of  leisure  and  men  actively 
engaged  in  affairs  of  their  own,  conducting  business 
upon  its  own  responsibility.  They  did  not  greatly 
excite  my  attention. 

The  tribe  of  clerks  was  an  obvious  one ;  and  here  I 
discerned  two  remarkable  divisions.  There  were  the 
junior  clerks  of  flash  houses — young  gentlemen  with 
tight  coats,  bright  boots,  well-oiled  hair,  and  super 
cilious  lips.  Setting  aside  a  certain  dapperness  of  car 
riage  which  may  be  termed  "  deskism  "  for  want  of  a 
better  word,  the  manner  of  these  persons  seemed  to 
be  an  exact  f ac-simile  of  what  had  been  the  perfection 
of  bon  ton  about  twelve  or  eighteen  months  before. 
They  wore  the  cast-off  graces  of  the  gentry ;  and  this, 
I  believe,  involves  the*  best  definition  of  the  class. 

The  division  of  the  upper  clerks  of  staunch  firms, 
or  of  the  "  steady  old  fellows,"  it  was  not  possible  to 
mistake.  These  were  known  by  their  coats  and  panta 
loons  of  black  or  brown,  made  to  sit  comfortably, 
with  white  cravats  and  waistcoats,  broad  solid-looking 
shoes,  and  thick  hose  or  gaiters.  They  had  all  slightly 
bald  heads,  from  which  the  right  ears,  long  used  to  pen- 
holding,  had  an  odd  habit  of  standing  off  on  end.  I 
observed  that  they  always  removed  or  settled  their 

162 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


hats  with  both  hands,  and  wore  watches,  with  short 
gold  chains  of  a  substantial  and  ancient  pattern, 
Theirs  was  the  affectation  of  respectability,  if  indeeo 
there  be  an  affectation  so  honorable. 

There  were  many  individuals  of  dashing  appearance, 
whom  I  easily  understood  as  belonging  to  the  race  of 
swell  pick-pockets,  with  which  all  great  cities  are  in 
fested.  I  watched  these  gentry  with  much  inquisitive- 
ness,  and  found  it  difficult  to  imagine  how  they  should 
ever  be  mistaken  for  gentlemen  by  gentlemen  them 
selves.  Their  voluminousness  of  wristband,  with  an 
air  of  excessive  frankness,  should  betray  them  at  once. 

The  gamblers,  of  whom  I  descried  not  a  few,  were 
still  more  easily  recognizable.  They  wore  every 
variety  of  dress,  from  that  of  the  desperate  thimble- 
rig  bully,  with  velvet  waistcoat,  fancy  neckerchief, 
gilt  chains,  and  filagreed  buttons,  to  that  of  the 
scrupulously  inornate  clergyman  than  which  noth 
ing  could  be  less  liable  to  suspicion.  Still  all  were 
distinguished  by  a  certain  sodden  swarthiness  of 
complexion,  a  filmy  dimness  of  eye,  and  pallor  and 
compression  of  lip.  There  were  two  other  traits,  more 
over,  by  which  I  could  always  detect  them :  a  guarded 
lowness  of  tone  in  conversation,  and  a  more  than 
ordinary  extension  of  the  thumb  in  a  direction  at  right 
angles  with  the  fingers.  Very  often,  in  company  with 
these  sharpers,  I  observed  an  order  of  men  somewhat 
different  in  habits,  but  still  birds  of  a  kindred  feather. 

163 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


They  may  be  defined  as  the  gentlemen  who  live  by 
their  wits.  They  seem  to  prey  upon  the  public  in 
two  battalions,  that  of  the  dandies  and  that  of  the 
military  men.  Of  the  first  grade  the  leading  features 
are  long  locks  and  smiles ;  of  the  second,  frogged  coats 
and  frowns. 

Descending  in  the  scale  of  what  is  termed  gentility, 
I  found  darker  and  deeper  themes  for  speculation.  I 
saw  Jew  pedlers,  with  hawk  eyes  flashing  from  coun 
tenances  whose  every  other  feature  wore  only  an 
expression  of  abject  humility;  sturdy  professional 
street  beggars  scowling  upon  mendicants  of  a  better 
stamp,  whom  despair  alone  had  driven  forth  into  the 
night  for  charity;  feeble  and  ghastly  invalids,  upon 
whom  death  had  placed  a  sure  hand,  and  who  sidled 
and  tottered  through  the  mob,  looking  every  one  be 
seechingly  in  the  face,  as  if  in  search  of  some  chance 
consolation,  some  lost  hope;  modest  young  girls  re 
turning  from  long  and  late  labor  to  a  cheerless  home, 
and  shrinking  more  tearfully  than  indignantly  from 
the  glances  of  ruffians,  whose  direct  contact,  even> 
could  not  be  avoided ;  women  of  the  town  of  all  kinds 
and  of  all  ages — the  unequivocal  beauty  in  the  prime 
of  her  womanhood,  putting  one  in  mind  of  the  statue 
in  Lucian,  with  the  surface  of  Parian  marble  and  the 
interior  filled  with  filth ;  the  loathsome  and  utterly  lost 
leper  in  rags;  the  wrinkled,  bejewelled,  and  paint- 
begrimed  beldame,  making  a  last  effort  at  youth ;  the 

164 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


mere  child  of  immature  form,  yet,  from  long  associa 
tion,  an  adept  in  the  dreadful  coquetries  of  her  trade, 
and  burning  with  a  rabid  ambition  to  be  ranked  the 
equal  of  her  elders  in  vice;  drunkards  innumerable 
and  indescribable,  some  in  shreds  and  patches,  reeling^ 
inarticulate,  with  bruised  visage  and  lack-lustre  eyes, 
some  in  whole  although  filthy  garments,  with  a 
slightly  unsteady  swagger,  thick  sensual  lips,  and 
hearty-looking  rubicund  faces,  others  clothed  in  ma 
terials  which  had  once  been  good,  and  which  even 
now  were  scrupulously  well  brushed ;  men  who  walked 
with  a  more  than  naturally  firm  and  springy  step, 
but  whose  countenances  were  fearfully  pale,  whose 
eyes  were  hideously  wild  and  red,  and  who  clutched 
with  quivering  fingers,  as  they  strode  through  the 
crowd,  at  every  object  which  came  within  their  reach ; 
beside  these,  pie-men,  porters,  coal-heavers,  sweeps; 
organ-grinders,  monkey-exhibitors,  and  ballad-mon 
gers,  those  who  vended  with  those  who  sang;  ragged 
artisans  and  exhausted  laborers  of  every  description, 
and  all  full  of  a  noisy  and  inordinate  vivacity  which 
jarred  discordantly  upon  the  ear,  and  gave  an  aching 
sensation  to  the  eye. 

As  the  night  deepened,  so  deepened  to  me  the  in 
terest  of  the  scene;  for  not  only  did  the  general 
character  of  the  crowd  materially  alter  (its  gentler 
features  retiring  in  the  gradual  withdrawal  of  the  more 
orderly  portion  of  the  people,  and  its  harsher  ones 

165 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


coming  out  into  bolder  relief,  as  the  late  hour  brought 
forth  every  species  of  infamy  from  its  den) ,  but  the  rays 
of  the  gas-lamps,  feeble  at  first  in  their  struggle  with 
the  dying  day,  had  now  at  length  gained  ascendency, 
and  threw  over  everything  a  fitful  and  garish  lustre. 
All  was  dark  yet  splendid,  as  that  ebony  to  which 
has  been  likened  the  style  of  Tertullian. 

The  wild  effects  of  the  light  enchained  me  to  an' ex 
amination  of  individual  faces;  and  although  the 
rapidity  with  which  the  world  of  light  flitted  before 
the  window  prevented  me  from  casting  more  than  a 
glance  upon  each  visage,  still  it  seemed  that,  in  my 
then  peculiar  mental  state,  I  could  frequently  read, 
even  in  that  brief  interval  of  a  glance,  the  history  of 
long  years. 

With  my  brow  to  the  glass,  I  was  thus  occupied  in 
scrutinizing  the  mob,  when  suddenly  there  came  into 
view  a  countenance  (that  of  a  decrepid  old  man,  some 
sixty-five  or  seventy  years  of  age),  a  countenance 
which  at  once  arrested  and  absorbed  my  whole  atten 
tion,  on  account  of  the  absolute  idiosyncrasy  of  its 
expression.  Anything  even  remotely  resembling  that 
expression  I  had  never  seen  before.  I  well  remember 
that  my  first  thought,  upon  beholding  it,  was  that 
Retzch,  had  he  viewed  it,  would  have  greatly  pre 
ferred  it  to  his  own  pictural  incarnations  of  the  fiend. 
As  I  endeavored,  during  the  brief  minute  of  my 
original  survey,  to  form  some  analysis  of  the  meaning 

166 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


conveyed,  there  arose  confusedly  and  paradoxically 
within  my  mind  the  ideas  of  vast  mental  power,  of 
caution,  of  penuriousness,  of  avarice,  of  coolness,  of 
malice,  of  bloodthirstiness,  of  triumph,  of  merriment, 
of  excessive  terror,  of  intense — of  supreme  despair.  I 
felt  singularly  aroused,  startled,  fascinated.  "  How 
wild  a  history,"  I  said  to  myself,  "  is  written  within 
that  bosom!  "  Then  came  a  craving  desire  to  keep 
the  man  in  view,  to  know  more  of  him.  Hurriedly 
putting  on  an  overcoat,  and  seizing  my  hat  and  cane, 
I  made  my  way  into  the  street,  and  pushed  through 
the  crowd  in  the  direction  which  I  had  seen  him  take ; 
for  he  had  already  disappeared.  With  some  little  diffi 
culty  I  at  length  came  within  sight  of  him,  approached, 
and  followed  him  closely,  yet  cautiously,  so  as  not  to 
attract  his  attention. 

I  had  now  a  good  opportunity  of  examining  his 
person.  He  was  short  in  stature,  very  thin,  and 
apparently  very  feeble.  His  clothes,  generally,  were 
filthy  and  ragged;  but  as  he  came,  now  and  then, 
within  the  strong  glare  of  a  lamp,  I  perceived  that 
his  linen,  although  dirty,  was  of  beautiful  texture; 
and  my  vision  deceived  me,  or,  through  a  rent  in  a 
closely-buttoned  and  evidently  second-handed  roquet 
laire  which  enveloped  him,  I  caught  a  glimpse  both 
of  a  diamond  and  of  a  dagger.  These  observations 
heightened  my  curiosity,  and  I  resolved  to  follow  the 
stranger  whithersoever  he  should  go. 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


It  was  now  fully  nightfall,  and  a  thick  humid  fog 
hung  over  the  city,  soon  ending  in  a  settled  and 
heavy  rain.  This  change  of  weather  had  an  odd  effect 
upon  the  crowd,  the  whole  of  which  was  at  once  put 
into  new  commotion,  and  overshadowed  by  a  world 
of  umbrellas.  The  waver,  the  jostle,  and  the  hum 
increased  in  a  tenfold  degree.  For  my  own  part  I  did 
not  much  regard  the  rain,  the  lurking  of  an  old  fever 
in  my  system  rendering  the  moisture  somewhat  too 
dangerously  pleasant.  Tying  a  handkerchief  about 
my  mouth,  I  kept  on.  For  half  an  hour  the  old  man 
held  his  way  with  difficulty  along  the  great  thorough 
fare;  and  I  here  walked  close  at  his  elbow  through 
fear  of  losing  sight  of  him.  Never  once  turning  his 
head  to  look  back,  he  did  not  observe  me.  By  and  by 
he  passed  into  a  cross  street,  which,  although  densely 
filled  with  people,  was  not  quite  so  much  thronged  as 
the  main  one  he  had  quitted.  Here  a  change  in 
his  demeanor  became  evident.  He  walked  more 
slowly  and  with  less  object  than  before,  more  hesi 
tatingly.  He  crossed  and  re-crossed  the  way  repeat 
edly,  without  apparent  aim;  and  the  press  was  still 
so  thick,  that,  at  every  such  movement,  I  was  obliged 
to  follow  him  closely.  The  street  was  a  narrow  and 
long  one,  and  his  course  lay  within  it  for  nearly  an 
hour,  during  which  the  passengers  had  gradually 
diminished  to  about  that  number  which  is  ordinarily 
seen  at  noon  on  Broadway  near  the  park,  so  vast  a 

168 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


difference  is  there  between  a  London  populace  and 
that  of  the  most  frequented  American  city.  A  second 
turn  brought  us  into  a  square,  brilliantly  lighted,  and 
overflowing  with  life.  The  old  manner  of  the  stranger 
reappeared.  His  chin  fell  upon  his  breast,  while  his 
eyes  rolled  wildly  from  under  his  knit  brows,  in  every 
direction,  upon  those  who  hemmed  him  in.  He  urged 
his  way  steadily  and  perseveringly.  I  was  surprised, 
however,  to  find,  upon  his  having  made  the  circuit  of 
the  square,  that  he  turned  and  retraced  his  steps. 
Still  more  was  I  astonished  to  see  him  repeat  the 
walk  several  times,  once  nearl~r  detecting  me  as  he 
came  round  with  a  sudde::  movement. 

In  this  exercise  he  spent  another  hour,  at  the  end 
of  which  we  met  with  far  less  interruption  from  pas 
sengers  than  at  first.  The  rain  fell  fast ;  the  air  grew 
cool;  and  the  people  were  retiring  to  their  homes. 
With  a  gesture  of  impatience,  the  wanderer  passed 
into  a  by-street  comparatively  deserted.  Down  this, 
some  quarter  of  a  mile  long,  he  rushed  with  an  activity 
I  could  not  have  dreamed  of  seeing  in  one  so  aged, 
and  which  put  me  to  much  trouble  in  pursuit.  A  few 
minutes  brought  us  to  a  large  and  busy  bazaar,  with 
the  localities  of  which  the  stranger  appeared  well 
acquainted,  and  where  his  original  demeanor  again 
became  apparent,  as  he  forced  his  way  to  and  fro, 
without  aim,  among  the  host  of  buyers  and  sellers. 

During  the  hour  and  a  half,  or  thereabouts,  which 
169 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 

we  passed  in  this  place,  it  required  much  caution  on 
my  part  to  keep  him  within  reach  without  attracting 
his  observation.  Luckily  I  wore  a  pair  of  caoutchouc 
overshoes,  and  could  move  about  in  perfect  silence. 
At  no  moment  did  he  see  that  I  watched  him.  He 
entered  shop  after  shop,  priced  nothing,  spoke  no 
word,  and  looked  at  all  objects  with  a  wild  and  vacant 
stare.  I  was  now  utterly  amazed  at  his  behavior, 
and  firmly  resolved  that  we  should  not  part  until  I  had 
satisfied  myself  in  some  measure  respecting  him. 

A  loud-toned  clock  struck  eleven,  and  the  company 
were  fast  deserting  the  bazaar.  A  shop-keeper,  hi 
putting  up  a  shutter,  jostled  the  old  man,  and  at  the 
instant  I  saw  a  strong  shudder  come  over  his  frame. 
He  hurried  into  the  street,  looked  anxiously  around 
him  for  an  instant,  and  then  ran  with  incredible  swift 
ness  through  many  crooked  and  peopleless  lanes,  until 
we  emerged  once  more  upon  the  great  thoroughfare 

whence  we  had  started,  the  street  of  the  D Hotel. 

It  no  longer  wore,  however,  the  same  aspect.  It  was 
still  brilliant  with  gas;  but  the  rain  fell  fiercely,  and 
there  were  few  persons  to  be  seen.  The  stranger  grew 
pale.  He  walked  moodily  some  paces  up  the  once 
populous  avenue,  then,  with  a  heavy  sigh,  turned  in 
the  direction  of  the  river,  and,  plunging  through  a  great 
variety  of  devious  ways,  came  out,  at  length,  in  view 
of  one  of  the  principal  theatres.  It  was  about  being 
closed,  and  the  audience  were  thronging  from  the  doors, 

170 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


I  saw  the  old  man  gasp  as  if  for  breath  while  he  threw 
himself  amid  the  crowd ;  but  I  thought  that  the  intense 
agony  of  his  countenance  had,  in  some  measure, 
abated.  His  head  again  fell  upon  his  breast;  he  ap 
peared  as  I  had  seen  him  at  first.  I  observed  that  he 
now  took  the  course  in  which  had  gone  the  greater , 
number  of  the  audience;  but,  upon  the  whole,  I  was 
at  a  loss  to  comprehend  the  waywardness  of  his  actions. 
As  he  proceeded,  the  company  grew  more  scattered, 
and  his  old  uneasiness  and  vacillation  were  resumed. 
For  some  time  he  followed  closely  a  party  of  some 
ten  or  twelve  roisterers ;  but  from  this  number  one  by 
one  dropped  off,  until  three  only  remained  together,  in 
a  narrow  and  gloomy  lane  little  frequented.  The 
stranger  paused,  and,  for  a  moment,  seemed  lost  in 
thought;  then,  with  every  mark  of  agitation,  pursued 
rapidly  a  route  which  brought  us  to  the  verge  of  the 
city,  amid  regions  very  different  from  those  we  had 
hitherto  traversed.  It  was  the  most  noisome  quarter 
of  London,  where  everything  wore  the  worst  impress 
of  the  most  deplorable  poverty,  and  of  the  most  des 
perate  crime.  By  the  dim  light  of  an  accidental  lamp, 
tall,  antique,  worm-eaten,  wooden  tenements  were 
seen  tottering  to  their  fall,  in  directions  so  many  and 
capricious,  that  scarce  the  semblance  of  a  passage 
was  discernible  between  them.  The  paving-stones  lay 
at  random,  displaced  from  their  beds  by  the  rankly 
growing  grass.  Horrible  filth  festered  in  the  dammed- 

171 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


up  gutters.  The  whole  atmosphere  teemed  with  deso 
lation.  Yet,  as  we  proceeded,  the  sounds  of  human 
life  revived  by  sure  degrees,  and  at  length  large  bands 
of  the  most  abandoned  of  a  London  populace  were 
seen  reeling  to  and  fro.  The  spirits  of  the  old  man 
again  flickered  up,  as  a  lamp  which  is  near  its  death- 
hour.  Once  more  he  strode  onward  with  elastic  tread. 
Suddenly  a  corner  was  turned,  a  blaze  of  light  burst 
upon  our  sight,  and  we  stood  before  one  of  the  huge 
suburban  temples  of  Intemperance,  one  of  the  palaces 
of  the  fiend,  Gin. 

It  was  now  nearly  daybreak;  but  a  number  of 
wretched  inebriates  still  pressed  in  and  out  of  the 
flaunting  entrance.  With  a  half  shriek  of  joy  the  old 
man  forced  a  passage  within,  resumed  at  once  his 
original  bearing,  and  stalked  backward  and  forward, 
without  apparent  object,  among  the  throng.  He  had 
not  been  thus  long  occupied,  however,  before  a  rush  to 
the  doors  gave  token  that  the  host  was  closing  for  the 
night.  It  was  something  even  more  intense  than 
despair  that  I  then  observed  upon  the  countenance 
of  the  singular  being  whom  I  had  watched  so  perti 
naciously.  Yet  he  did  not  hesitate  in  his  career,  but, 
with  a  mad  energy,  retraced  his  steps  at  once,  to  the 
heart  of  the  mighty  London.  Long  and  swiftly  he 
fled,  while  I  followed  him  in  the  wildest  amazement, 
resolute  not  to  abandon  a  scrutiny  in  which  I  now 
felt  an  interest  all-absorbing.  The  sun  arose  while 

172 


THE  MAN  OF  THE  CROWD 


"This  old  man 
crime." 


is  the  type  and  the  genius  of  deep 


The  Man  of  the  Crowd 


we  proceeded,  and,  when  we  had  once  again  reached 
that  most  thronged  mart  of  the  populous  town,  the 
street  of  the  D—  -  Hotel,  it  presented  an  appearance 
of  human  bustle  and  activity  scarcely  inferior  to  what 
I  had  seen  on  the  evening  before.  And  here,  long, 
amid  the  momently  increasing  confusion,  did  I  persist 
in  my  pursuit  of  the  stranger.  But,  as  usual,  he  walked 
to  and  fro,  and  during  the  day  did  not  pass  from  out 
the  turmoil  of  that  street.  And,  as  the  shades  of  the 
second  evening  came  on,  I  grew  wearied  unto  death, 
and,  stopping  fully  in  front  of  the  wanderer,  gazed  at 
him  steadfastly  in  the  face.  He  noticed  me  not,  but 
resumed  his  solemn  walk,  while  I,  ceasing  to  follow, 
remained  absorbed  in  contemplation.  "  This  old 
man,"  I  said  at  length,  "  is  the  type  and  the  genius  of 
deep  crime.  He  refuses  to  be  alone.  He  is  the  man 
of  the  crowd,  It  will  be  in  vain  to  follow;  for  I  shall 
learn  no  more  of  him,  nor  of  his  deeds.  The  worst 
heart  of  the  world  is  a  grosser  book  than  the  Ortulus 
Animae,1  and  perhaps  it  is  but  one  of  the  great 
mercies  of  God  that  '  er  lasst  sich  nicht  lesen.'  " 

1  The  Ortulus  Animx  cum  Orat/onibus  Aliquibus  Superaddfa's  of  Griininger. 


173 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue 
Morgue 

What  song  the  Sirens  sang,  or  what  name  Achilles  as 
sumed  when  he  hid  himself  among  women,  although  puzzling 
questions,  are  not  beyond  all  conjecture. — SIR  THOMAS 
BROWNE. 

HE  mental  features  discoursed  of  as  the  ana 
lytical,  are,  in  themselves,  but  little  sus 
ceptible  of  analysis.  We  appreciate  them 
only  in  their  effects.  We  know  of  them,  among  other 
things,  that  they  are  always  to  their  possessor,  when 
inordinately  possessed,  a  source  of  the  liveliest  enjoy 
ment.  As  the  strong  man  exults  in  his  physical 
ability,  delighting  in  such  exercises  as  call  his  muscles 
into  action,  so  glories  the  analyst  in  that  moral  activity 
which  disentangles.  He  derives  pleasure  from  even  the 
most  trivial  occupations  bringing  his  talent  into  play. 
He  is  fond  of  enigmas,  of  conundrums,  of  hieroglyphics, 
exhibiting  in  his  solutions  of  each  a  degree  of  acumen 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

which  appears  to  the  ordinary  apprehension  preter 
natural.  His  results,  brought  about  by  the  very  soul 
and/  essence  of  method,  have,  in  truth,  the  whole  air 
of  intuition. 

The  faculty  of  re-solution  is  possibly  much  in 
vigorated  by  mathematical  study,  and  especially  by 
that  highest  branch  of  it  which,  unjustly,  and  merely 
on  account  of  its  retrograde  operations,  has  been 
called,  as  if  par  excellence,  analysis.  Yet  to  calculate 
is  not  in  itself  to  analyze.  A  chess-player,  for  example, 
does  the  one,  without  effort  at  the  other.  It  follows 
that  the  game  of  chess,  in  its  effects  upon  mental 
character,  is  greatly  misunderstood.  I  am  not  now 
writing  a  treatise,  but  simply  prefacing  a  somewhat 
peculiar  narrative  by  observations  very  much  at  ran 
dom  ;  I  will,  therefore,  take  occasion  to  assert  that  the 
higher  powers  of  the  reflective  intellect  are  more  de 
cidedly  and  more  usefully  tasked  by  the  unostentatious 
game  of  draughts  than  by  all  the  elaborate  frivolity  of 
chess.  In  this  latter,  where  the  pieces  have  different 
and  bizarre  motions,  with  various  and  variable  values, 
what  is  only  complex  is  mistaken  (a  not  unusual 
error)  for  what  is  profound.  The  attention  is  here 
called  powerfully  into  play.  If  it  flag  for  an  instant, 
an  oversight  is  committed,  resulting  in  injury  or  defeat. 
The  possible  moves  being  not  only  manifold,  but  in 
volute,  the  chances  of  such  oversights  are  multiplied; 
and  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  it  is  the  more  concentrative 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue 

rather  than  the  more  acute  player  who  ctfnj 
In  draughts,  on  the  contrary,  where  the  moves)  are 
unique  and  have  but  little  variation,  the  probabil 
ities  of  inadvertence  are  diminished,  and  the  mWe 
attention  being  left  comparatively  unemployed,  what 
advantages  are  obtained  by  either  party  are  obtained 
by  superior  acumen.  To  be  less  abstract,  let  us  sup 
pose  a  game  of  draughts,  where  the  pieces  are  reduced 
to  four  kings,  and  where,  of  course,  no  oversight  is 
to  be  expected.  It  is  obvious  that  here  the  victory 
can  be  decided  (the  players  being  at  all  equal)  only 
by  some  recherche  movement,  the  result  of  some 
strong  exertion  of  the  intellect.  Deprived  of  ordinary 
resources,  the  analyst  throws  himself  into  the  spirit 
of  his  opponent,  identifies  himself  therewith,  and  not 
unfrequently  sees  thus,  at  a  glance,  the  sole  methods 
(sometimes  indeed  absurdly  simple  ones)  by  which  he 
may  seduce  into  error  or  hurry  into  miscalculation. 

Whist  has  long  been  known  for  its  influence  upon 
what  is  termed  the  calculating  power ;  and  men  of  the 
highest  order  of  intellect  have  been  known  to  take  an 
apparently  unaccountable  delight  in  it,  while  eschew 
ing  chess  as  frivolous.  Beyond  doubt  there  is  noth 
ing  of  a  similar  nature  so  greatly  tasking  the  faculty 
of  analysis.  The  best  chess-player  in  Christendom 
may  be  little  more  than  the  best  player  of  chess;  but 
proficiency  in  whist  implies  capacity  for  success  in 
all  these  more  important  undertakings  where  mind 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

struggles  with  mind.  When  I  say  proficiency,  I  mean 
that  perfection  in  the  game  which  includes  a  compre 
hension  of  all  the  sources  whence  legitimate  advan 
tage  may  be  derived,  These  are  not  only  manifold, 
but  multiform,  and  lie  frequently  among  recesses  of 
thought  altogether  inaccessible  to  the  ordinary  under 
standing.  To  observe  attentively  is  to  remember  dis 
tinctly;  and,  so  far,  the  concentrative  chess-player 
will  do  very  well  at  whist;  while  the  rules  of  Hoyle 
(themselves  based  upon  the  mere  mechanism  of  the 
game)  are  sufficiently  and  generally  comprehensible. 
Thus  to  have  a  retentive  memory,  and  proceed  by 
"  the  book  "  are  points  commonly  regarded  as  the 
sum  total  of  good  playing.  But  it  is  in  matters  be 
yond  the  limits  of  mere  rule  that  the  skill  of  the 
analyst  is  evinced.  He  makes,  in  silence,  a  host  of 
observations  and  inferences.  So,  perhaps,  do  his  com 
panions  ;  and  the  difference  in  the  extent  of  the  infor 
mation  obtained,  lies  not  so  much  in  the  validity  of 
the  inference  as  in  the  quality  of  the  observation.  The 
necessary  knowledge  is  that  of  what  to  observe.  Our 
player  confines  himself  not  at  all;  nor,  because  the 
game  is  the  object,  does  he  reject  deductions  from 
things  external  to  the  game.  He  examines  the  coun 
tenance  of  his  partner,  comparing  it  carefully  with 
that  of  each  of  his  opponents.  He  considers  the  mode 
of  assorting  the  cards  in  each  hand;  often  counting 
trump  by  trump,  and  honor  by  honor,  through  the 


VOL.  IV,—  12. 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

glances  bestowed  by  their  holders  upon  each.  He 
notes  every  variation  of  face  as  the  play  progresses, 
gathering  a  fund  of  thought  from  the  differences  in  the 
expression  of  certainty,  of  surprise,  of  triumph,  or 
chagrin.  From  the  manner  of  gathering  up  a  trick 
he  judges  whether  the  person  taking  it  can  make 
another  in  the  suit.  He  recognizes  what  is  played 
through  feint,  by  the  manner  with  which  it  is  thrown 
upon  the  table.  A  casual  or  inadvertent  word;  the 
accidental  dropping  or  turning  of  a  card,  with  the 
accompanying  anxiety  or  carelessness  in  regard  to  its 
concealment;  the  counting  of  the  tricks,  with  the 
order  of  their  arrangement;  embarrassment,  hesita 
tion,  eagerness,  or  trepidation, — all  afford,  to  his  ap 
parently  intuitive  perception,  indications  of  the  true 
state  of  affairs.  The  first  two  or  three  rounds  having 
been  played,  he  is  in  full  possession  of  the  contents  of 
each  hand,  and  thenceforward  puts  down  his  cards 
with  as  absolute  a  precision  cf  purpose  as  if  the  rest  of 
the  party  had  turned  outward  the  faces  of  their  own. 

The  analytical  power  should  not  be  confounded  with 
simple  ingenuity;  for  while  the  analyst  is  necessarily 
ingenious,  the  ingenious  man  is  often  remarkably  in 
capable  of  analysis.  The  constructive  or  combining 
power,  by  which  ingenuity  is  usually  manifested,  and 
to  which  the  phrenologists  (I  believe  erroneously) 
have  assigned  a  separate  organ,  supposing  it  a  primi 
tive  faculty,  has  been  so  frequently  seen  in  those  whose 

178 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

intellect  bordered  otherwise  upon  idiocy  as  to  have 
attracted  general  observation  among  writers  on 
morals^  Between  ingenuity  and  the  analytic  ability 
there  exists  a  difference  far  greater,  indeed,  than  that 
between  the  fancy  and  the  imagination,  but  of  a 
character  very  strictly  analogous.  It  will  be  found, 
in  fact,  that  the  ingenious  are  always  fanciful,  and 
the  truly  imaginative  never  otherwise  than  analytic. 

The  narrative  which  follows  will  appear  to  the  reader 
somewhat  in  the  light  of  a  commentary  upon  the 
propositions  just  advanced. 

Residing  in  Paris  during  the  spring  and  part  of  the 
summer  of  18 — ,  I  there  became  acquainted  with  a 
Monsieur  C.  Auguste  Dupin.  This  young  gentleman 
was  of  an  excellent,  indeed  of  an  illustrious  family,  but, 
by  a  variety  of  untoward  events,  had  been  reduced  to 
such  poverty  that  the  energy  of  his  character  suc 
cumbed  beneath  it,  and  he  ceased  to  bestir  himself  in 
the  world,  or  to  care  for  the  retrieval  of  his  fortunes. 
By  courtesy  of  his  creditors,  there  still  remained  in 
his  possession  a  small  remnant  of  his  patrimony; 
and,  upon  the  income  arising  from  this,  he  managed, 
by  means  of  a  rigorous  economy,  to  procure  the 
necessaries  of  life,  without  troubling  himself  about  its 
superfluities.  Books,  indeed,  were  his  sole  luxuries, 
and  in  Paris  these  are  easily  obtained. 

Our  first  meeting  was  at  an  obscure  library  in  the 
Rue  Montmartre,  where  the  accident  of  our  both  being 

179 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

in  search  of  the  same  very  rare  and  very  remarkable 
volume,  brought  us  into  closer  communion.  We  saw 
each  other  again  and  again.  I  was  deeply  interested 
in  the  little  family  history  which  he  detailed  to  me 
with  all  that  candor  which  a  Frenchman  indulges 
whenever  mere  self  is  the  theme.  I  was  astonished, 
too,  at  the  vast  extent  of  his  reading ;  and,  above  all,  I 
felt  my  soul  enkindled  within  me  by  the  wild  fervor 
and  the  vivid  freshness  of  his  imagination.  Seeking 
in  Paris  the  objects  I  then  sought,  I  felt  that  the 
society  of  such  a  man  would  be  to  me  a  treasure  be 
yond  price ;  and  this  feeling  I  frankly  confided  to  him. 
It  was  at  length  arranged  that  we  should  live  together 
during  my  stay  in  the  city;  and  as  my  worldly  cir 
cumstances  were  somewhat  less  embarrassed  than  his 
own,  I  was  permitted  to  be  at  the  expense  of  renting, 
and  furnishing  in  a  style  which  suited  the  rather  fan 
tastic  gloom  of  our  common  temper,  a  time-eaten  and 
grotesque  mansion,  long  deserted  through  superstitions 
into  which  we  did  not  inquire,  and  tottering  to  its  fall 
in  a  retired  and  desolate  portion  of  the  Faubourg  St. 
Germain. 

Had  the  routine  of  our  life  at  this  place  been  known 
to  the  world,  we  should  have  been  regarded  as  mad 
men,  although,  perhaps,  as  madmen  of  a  harmless 
nature.  Our  seclusion  was  perfect.  We  admitted  no 
visitors.  Indeed  the  locality  of  our  retirement  had  been 
carefully  kept  a  secret  from  my  own  former  associates ; 

1 80 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

and  it  had  been  many  years  since  Dupin  had  ceased 
to  know  or  be  known  in  Paris.  We  existed  within 
ourselves  alone. 

It  was  a  freak  of  fancy  in  my  friend  (for  what  else 
shall  I  call  it  ?)  to  be  enamored  of  the  night  for  her 
own  sake ;  and  into  this  bizarrerie,  as  into  all  his  others, 
I  quietly  fell ;  giving  myself  up  to  his  wild  whims  with 
a  perfect  abandon.  The  sable  divinity  would  not  her 
self  dwell  with  us  always;  but  we  could  counterfeit 
her  presence.  At  the  first  dawn  of  the  morning  we 
closed  all  the  massy  shutters  of  our  old  building; 
lighted  a  couple  of  tapers  which,  strongly  perfumed, 
threw  out  only  the  ghastliest  and  feeblest  of  rays.  By 
the  aid  of  these  we  then  busied  our  souls  in  dreams ; 
reading,  writing,  or  conversing,  until  warned  by  the 
clock  of  the  advent  of  the  true  darkness.  Then  we 
sallied  forth  into  the  streets,  arm  in  arm,  continuing 
the  topics  of  the  day,  or  roaming  far  and  wide  until  a 
late  hour,  seeking,  amid  the  wild  lights  and  shadows 
of  the  populous  city,  that  infinity  of  mental  excitement 
which  quiet  observation  can  afford. 

At  such  times  I  could  not  help  remarking  and  ad 
miring  (although  from  his  rich  ideality  I  had  been 
prepared  to  expect  it)  a  peculiar  analytic  ability  in 
Dupin.  He  seemed,  too,  to  take  an  eager  delight  in 
its  exercise,  if  not  exactly  in  its  display,  and  did  not 
hesitate  to  confess  the  pleasure  thus  derived.  He 
boasted  to  me,  with  a  low,  chuckling  laugh,  that  most 

181 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

men,  in  respect  to  himself,  wore  windows  in  their 
bosoms,  and  was  wont  to  follow  up  such  assertions 
by  direct  and  very  startling  proofs  of  his  intimate 
knowledge  of  my  own.  His  manner  at  these  mo 
ments  was  frigid  and  abstract ;  his  eyes  were  vacant  hi 
expression ;  while  his  voice,  usually  a  rich  tenor,  rose 
into  a  treble  which  would  have  sounded  petulantly 
but  for  the  deliberateness  and  entire  distinctness  of  the 
enunciation.  Observing  him  in  these  moods,  I  often 
dwelt  meditatively  upon  the  old  philosophy  of  the 
Bi-Part  Soul,  and  amused  myself  with  the  fancy  of  a 
double  Dupin,  the  creative  and  the  resolvent. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed,  from  what  I  have  just  said, 
that  I  am  detailing  any  mystery,  or  penning  any  ro 
mance.  What  I  have  described  in  the  Frenchman 
was  merely  the  result  of  an  excited,  or  perhaps  of  a 
diseased,  intelligence.  But  of  the  character  of  his 
remarks  at  the  periods  in  question  an  example  will 
best  convey  the  idea. 

We  were  strolling  one  night  down  a  long,  dirty  street, 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  Palais  Royal.  Being  both,  appa 
rently,  occupied  with  thought,  neither  of  us  had  spoken 
a  syllable  for  fifteen  minutes  at  least.  All  at  once 
Dupin  broke  forth  with  these  words : 

"  He  is  a  very  little  fellow,  that  Js  true,  and  would  do 
better  for  the  Theatre  des  Varietes," 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  that,"  I  replied,  un 
wittingly,  and  not  at  first  observing  (so  much  had  I 

182 


The  Murders  in  the* Rue  Morgue 

been  absorbed  in  reflection)  the  extraordinary  mannei 
in  which  the  speaker,  had  chimed  in  with  my  medita 
tions.  In  an  instant  afterward  I  recollected  myself, 
and  my  astonishment  was  profound. 

"  Dupin,"  said  I,  gravely,  "  this  is  beyond  my  com- 
prehension.  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  I  am 
amazed,  and  can  scarcely  credit  my  senses.  How  was 
it  possible  you  should  know  I  was  thinking  of  -  — ?  " 
Here  I  paused,  to  ascertain  beyond  a  doubt  whether 
he  really  knew  of  whom  I  thought. 

"  -  -  of  Chantiily,"  said  he ;  "  why  do  you  pause  ? 
You  were  remarking  to  yourself  that  his  diminutive 
figure  unfitted  him  for  tragedy." 

This  was  precisely  what  had  formed  the  subject  of 
my  reflections.  Chantiily  was  a  quondam  cobbler  of 
the  Rue  St.  Denis,  who,  becoming  stage-mad,  had  at 
tempted  the  role  of  Xerxes,  in  Crebillon's  tragedy  so 
called,  and  been  notoriously  pasquinaded  for  his 
pains. 

"  Tell  me,  for  heaven's  sake,"  I  exclaimed,  "  the 
method — if  method  there  is — by  which  you  have  been 
enabled  to  fathom  my  soul  in  this  matter."  In  fact, 
I  was  •  even  more  startled  than  I  would  have  been 
willing  to  express. 

"  It  was  the  fruiterer,"  replied  my  friend,  "  who 
brought  you  to  the  conclusion  that  the  mender  of  soles 
was  not  of  sufficient  height  for  Xerxes  et  id  genus 


183 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

"  The  fruiterer !  You  astonish  me ;  I  know  no  fruit 
erer  whomsoever." 

"  The  man  who  ran  up  against  you  as  we  entered 
the  street — it  may  have  been  fifteen  minutes  ago." 

I  now  remembered  that,  in  fact,  a  fruiterer,  carrying 
upon  his  head  a  large  basket  of  apples,  had  nearly 
thrown  me  down,  by  accident,  as  we  passed  from  the 

Rue  C into  the  thoroughfare  where  we  stood; 

but  what  this  had  to  do  with  Chantilly  I  could  not 
possibly  understand. 

There  was  not  a  particle  of  charlatanene  about 
Dupin.  "  I  will  explain,"  he  said ;  "  and,  that  you 
may  comprehend  all  clearly,  we  will  first  retrace  the 
course  of  your  meditations,  from  the  moment  in  which 
I  spoke  to  you  until  that  of  the  rencontre  with 
the  fruiterer  in  question.  The  larger  links  of  the 
chain  run  thus:  Chantilly,  Orion,  Dr.  Nichols, 
Epicurus,  stereotomy,  the  street  stones,  the 
fruiterer." 

There  are  few  persons  who  have  not,  at  some  period 
of  their  lives,  amused  themselves  in  retracing  the  steps 
by  which  particular  conclusions  of  their  own  minds 
have  been  attained.  The  occupation  is  often  full  of 
interest;  and  he  who  attempts  it  for  the  first  time  is 
astonished  by  the  apparently  illimitable  distance  and 
incoherence  between  the  starting-point  and  the  goal. 
What,  then,  must  have  been  my  amazement,  when  I 
heard  the  Frenchman  speak  what  he  had  just  spoken, 

184 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

and  when  I  could  not  help  acknowledging  that  he  had 
spoken  the  truth.  He  continued : 

"  We  had  been  talking  of  horses,  if  I  remember 

aright,  just  before  leaving  the  Rue  C .  This  was 

the  last  subject  we  discussed.  As  we  crossed  into  this 
street,  a  fruiterer,  with  a  large  basket  upon  his  head, 
brushing  quickly  past  us,  thrust  you  upon  a  pile  of 
paving-stones  collected  at  a  spot  where  the  causeway 
is  undergoing  repair.  You  stepped  upon  one  of  the 
loose  fragments,  slipped,  slightly  strained  your  ankle, 
appeared  vexed  or  sulky,  muttered  a  few  words,  turned 
to  look  at  the  pile,  and  then  proceeded  in  silence.  •! 
was  not  particularly  attentive  to  what  you  did;  but 
observation  has  become  with  me,  of  late,  a  species  of 
necessity. 

"  You  kept  your  eyes  upon  the  ground,  glancing, 
with  a  petulant  expression,  at  the  holes  and  ruts  in  the 
pavement,  (so  that  I  saw  you  were  still  thinking  of 
the  stones,)  until  we  reached  the  little  alley  called 
Lamartine,  which  has  been  paved,  by  way  of  experi 
ment,  with  the  overlapping  and  riveted  blocks.  Here 
your  countenance  brightened  up,  and,  perceiving  your 
lips  move,  I  could  not  doubt  that  you  murmured 
the  word  *  stereotomy,'  a  term  very  affectedly  applied 
to  this  species  of  pavement.  I  knew  that  you  could 
not  say  to  yourself  '  stereotomy  >  without  being  brought 
to  think  of  atomies,  and  thus  of  the  theories  of  Epi 
curus;  and  since,  when  we  discussed  this  subject  not 

185 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

?ery  long  ago,  I  mentioned  to  you  how  singularly,  yet 
with  how  little  notice,  the  vague  guesses  of  that  noble 
Greek  had  met  with  confirmation  in  the  late  nebular 
cosmogony,  I  felt  that  you  could  not  avoid  casting 
your  eyes  upward  to  the  great  nebula  in  Orion,  and  I 
certainly  expected  that  you  would  do  so.  You  did 
look  up;  and  I  was  now  assured  that  I  had  correctly 
followed  your  steps.  But  in  that  bitter  tirade  upon 
Chantilly,  which  appeared  in  yesterday's  Musee,  the 
satirist,  making  some  disgraceful  allusions  to  the  cob 
bler's  change  of  name  upon  assuming  the  buskin, 
quoted  a  Latin  line  about  which  we  have  often  con 
versed.  I  mean  the  line 

Perdidit  antiqtmm  litera  prima  sonum. 

I  had  told  you  that  this  was  in  reference  to  Orion, 
formerly  written  Urion;  and,  from  certain  pungen 
cies  connected  with  this  explanation,  I  was  aware  that 
you  could  not  have  forgotten  it.  It  was  clear,  there 
fore,  that  you  would  not  fail  to  combine  the  two  ideas 
of  Orion  and  Chantilly.  That  you  did  combine  them 
I  saw  by  the  character  of  the  smile  which  passed  over 
your  lips.  You  thought  of  the  poor  cobbler's  immo 
lation.  So  far,  you  had  been  stooping  in  your  gait; 
but  now  I  saw  you  draw  yourself  up  to  your  full 
height.  I  was  then  sure  that  you  reflected  upon  the 
diminutive  figure  of  Chantilly.  At  this  point  I  inter 
rupted  your  meditations  to  remark  that  as,  in  fact,  he 

1 86 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

was  a  very  little  fellow,  that  Chantilly,  he  would  do 
better  at  the  Theatre  des  Vari'etes," 

Not  long  after  this,  we  were  looking  over  an  evening 
edition  of  the  Gazette  des  Tribunaux,  when  the  follow 
ing  paragraphs  arrested  our  attention: 

"  EXTRAORDINARY  MURDERS.  —  This  morning, 
about  three  o'clock,  the  inhabitants  of  the  Quartier  St. 
Roch  were  roused  from  sleep  by  a  succession  of  terrific 
shrieks,  issuing,  apparently,  from  the  fourth  story  of  a 
house  in  the  Rue  Morgue,  known  to  be  in  the  sole  occu 
pancy  of  one  Madame  L'Espanaye,  and  her  daughter, 
Mademoiselle  Camille  L'Espanaye.  After  some  delay, 
occasioned  by  a  fruitless  attempt  to  procure  admission 
in  the  usual  manner,  the  gateway  was  broken  in  with 
a  crowbar,  and  eight  or  ten  of  the  neighbors  entered, 
accompanied  by  two  gendarmes.  By  this  time  the 
cries  had  ceased ;  but,  as  the  party  rushed  up  the  first 
flight  of  stairs,  two  or  more  rough  voices,  in  angry 
contention,  were  distinguished,  and  seemed  to  proceed 
from  the  upper  part  of  the  house.  As  the  second 
landing  was  reached,  these  sounds,  also,  had  ceased, 
and  everything  remained  perfectly  quiet.  The  party 
spread  themselves,  and  hurried  from  room  to  room. 
Upon  arriving  at  a  large  back  chamber  in  the  fourth 
story  (the  door  of  which,  being  found  locked,  with  the 
key  inside,  was  forced  open),  a  spectacle  presented 
itself  which  struck  every  one  present  not  less  with 
horror  than  with  astonishment. 

187 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

"  The  apartment  was  in  the  wildest  disorder — the 
furniture  broken  and  thrown  about  in  all  directions. 
There  was  only  one  bedstead;  and  from  this  the  bed 
had  been  removed,  and  thrown  into  the  middle  of  the 
floor.  On  a  chair  lay  a  razor,  besmeared  with  blood. 
On  the  hearth  were  two  or  three  long  and  thick  tresses 
of  gray  human  hair,  also  dabbled  with  blood,  and  seem 
ing  to  have  been  pulled  out  by  the  roots.  Upon  the 
floor  were  found  four  Napoleons,  an  ear-ring  of  topaz, 
three  large  silver  spoons,  three  smaller  of  metal  df 
Alger,  and  two  bags,  containing  nearly  four  thousand 
francs  in  gold.  The  drawers  of  a  bureau,  which  stood 
in  one  corner,  were  open,  and  had  been  apparently 
rifled,  although  many  articles  still  remained  in  them. 
A  small  iron  safe  was  discovered  under  the  bed  (not 
under  the  bedstead).  It  was  open,  with  the  key  still 
in  the  door.  It  had  no  contents  beyond  a  few  old 
letters,  and  other  papers  of  little  consequence. 

"  Of  Madame  L'Espanaye  no  traces  were  here  seen ; 
but  an  unusual  quantity  of  soot  being  observed  in  the 
fire-place,  a  search  was  made  in  the  chimney,  and 
(horrible  to  relate !)  the  corpse  of  the  daughter,  head 
downward,  was  dragged  therefrom,  it  having  been 
thus  forced  up  the  narrow  aperture  for  a  considerable 
distance.  The  body  was  quite  warm.  Upon  ex 
amining  it,  many  excoriations  were  perceived,  no 
doubt  occasioned  by  the  violence  with  which  it  had 
been  thrust  up  and  disengaged.  Upon  the  face  were 

188 


THE  MURDERS  IN  THE  RUE  MORGUE 

"  In  a  small  paved  yard  in  the  rear     .     ,      .     lay  the  corpse  ot 
the  old  lady." 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

many  severe  scratches,  and,  upon  the  throat,  dark 
bruises,  and  deep  indentations  of  finger  nails,  as  if 
the  deceased  had  been  throttled  to  death. 

"  After  a  thorough  investigation  of  every  portion  of 
the  house  without  further  discovery,  the  party  made 
its  way  into  a  small  paved  yard  in  the  rear  of  the 
building,  where  lay  the  corpse  of  the  old  lady,  with 
her  throat  so  entirely  cut  that,  upon  an  attempt  to 
raise  her,  the  head  fell  off.  The  body,  as  well  as  the 
head,  was  fearfully  mutilated;  the  former  so  much 
so  as  scarcely  to  retain  any  semblance  of  humanity. 

"  To  this  horrible  mystery  there  is  not  as  yet,  we 
believe,  the  slightest  clew." 

The  next  day's  paper  had  these  additional  particu- 
-ars: 

"  THE  TRAGEDY  IN  THE  RUE  MORGUE.— Many  in 
dividuals  have  been  examined  in  relation  to  this  most 
extraordinary  and  frightful  affair"  [the  word  affaire 
has  not  yet,  in  France,  that  levity  of  import  which  it 
conveys  with  us],  "  but  nothing  whatever  has  tran 
spired  to  throw  light  upon  it.  We  give  below  all  the 
material  testimony  elicited. 

"  Pauline  Dubourg,  laundress,  deposes  that  she  has 
known  both  the  deceased  for  three  years,  having 
washed  for  them  during  that  period.  The  old  lady 
and  her  daughter  seemed  on  good  terms,  very  affec 
tionate  toward  each  other.  They  were  excellent  pay. 
Could  not  speak  in  regard  to  their  mode  or  means  of 

189 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

living.  Believed  that  Madame  L.  told  fortunes  for  a 
living.  Was  reputed  to  have  money  put  by.  Never 
met  any  person  in  the  house  when  she  called  for  the 
clothes  or  took  them  home.  Was  sure  that  they  had 
no  servant  in  employ.  There  appeared  to  be  no  furni 
ture  in  any  part  of  the  building  except  in  the  fourth 
story. 

"  Pierre  Moreau,  tobacconist,  deposes  that  he  has 
been  in  the  habit  of  selling  small  quantities  of  tobacco 
and  snuff  to  Madame  L'Espanaye  for  nearly  four 
years.  Was  born  in  the  neighborhood,  and  has  always 
resided  there.  The  deceased  and  her  daughter  had 
occupied  the  house,  in  which  the  corpses  were  found, 
for  more  than  six  years.  It  was  formerly  occupied 
by  a  jeweller,  who  underlet  the  upper  rooms  to 
various  persons.  The  house  was  the  property  of 
Madame  L.  She  became  dissatisfied  with  the  abuse 
of  the  premises  by  her  tenant,  and  moved  into  them 
herself,  refusing  to  let  any  portion.  The  old  lady 
was  childish.  Witness  had  seen  the  daughter  some 
five  or  six  times  during  the  six  years.  The  two  lived 
an  exceedingly  retired  life;  were  reputed  to  have 
money.  Had  heard  it  said  among  the  neighbors  that 
Madame  L.  told  fortunes;  did  not  believe  it.  Had 
never  seen  any  person  enter  the  door  except  the  old 
lady  and  her  daughter,  a  porter  once  or  twice,  and  a 
physician  some  eight  or  ten  times. 

"  Many  other  persons,  neighbors,  gave  evidence  to 
190 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

the  same  effect.  No  one  was  spoken  of  as  frequenting 
the  house.  It  was  not  known  whether  there  were  any 
living  connections  of  Madame  L.  and  her  daughter. 
The  shutters  of  the  front  windows  were  seldom  opened. 
Those  in  the  rear  were  always  closed,  with  the  excep 
tion  of  the  large  back  room,  fourth  story.  The  house 
was  a  good  house,  not  very  old. 

"  Isidore  Muset,  gendarme,  deposes  that  he  was 
called  to  the  house  about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning, 
and  found  some  twenty  or  thirty  persons  at  the  gate 
way,  endeavoring  to  gain  admittance.  Forced  it  open 
at  length  with  a  bayonet,  not  with  a  crowbar.  Had 
but  little  difficulty  in  getting  it  open,  on  account  of  its 
being  a  double  or  folding  gate,  and  bolted  neither  at 
bottom  nor  top.  The  shrieks  were  continued  until 
the  gate  was  forced,  and  then  suddenly  ceased.  They 
seemed  to  be  screams  of  some  person  (or  persons)  hi 
great  agony ;  were  loud  and  drawn  out,  not  short  and 
quick.  Witness  led  the  way  up-stairs.  Upon  reaching 
the  first  landing,  heard  two  voices  in  loud  and  angry 
contention;  the  one  a  gruff  voice,  the  other  much 
shriller,  a  very  strange  voice.  Could  distinguish  some 
words  of  the  former,  which  was  that  of  a  Frenchman. 
Was  positive  that  it  was  not  a  woman's  voice.  Could 
distinguish  the  words  ' sacre  '  and  'diable,'  The  shrill 
voice  was  that  of  a  foreigner.  Could  not  be  sure 
whether  it  was  the  voice  of  a  man  or  of  a  woman0 
Could  not  make  out  what  was  said,  but  believed  the 

191 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

language  to  be  Spanish.  The  state  of  the  room  and 
of  the  bodies  was  described  by  this  witness  as  we 
described  them  yesterday. 

"  Henri  Duval,  a  neighbor,  and  by  trade  a  silver 
smith,  deposes  that  he  was  one  of  the  party  who  first 
entered  the  house.  Corroborates  the  testimony  of 
Muset  in  general.  As  soon  as  they  forced  an  entrance, 
they  reclosed  the  door,  to  keep  out  the  crowd,  which 
collected  very  fast,  notwithstanding  the  lateness  of 
the  hour.  The  shrill  voice,  this  witness  thinks,  was 
that  of  an  Italian.  Was  certain  it  was  not  French. 
Could  not  be  sure  that  it  was  a  man's  voice.  It  might 
have  been  a  woman's.  Was  not  acquainted  with  the 
Italian  language.  Could  not  distinguish  the  words, 
but  was  convinced  by  the  intonation  that  the  speaker 
was  an  Italian.  Knew  Madame  L.  and  her  daughter. 
Had  conversed  with  both  frequently.  Was  sure  that 
the  shrill  voice  was  not  that  of  either  of  the  deceased. 

"  —  —  Odenheimer,  restaurateur, — This  witness  vol 
unteered  his  testimony.  Not  speaking  French,  was 
examined  through  an  interpreter.  Is  a  native  of 
Amsterdam.  Was  passing  the  house  at  the  time  of 
the  shrieks.  They  lasted  for  several  minutes,  probably 
ten.  They  were  long  and  loud,  very  awful  and  distress 
ing.  Was  one  of  those  who  entered  the  building. 
Corroborated  the  previous  evidence  in  every  respect 
but  one.  Was  sure  that  the  shrill  voice  was  that  of 
a  man — of  a  Frenchman.  Could  not  distinguish  the 

192 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

words  uttered.  They  were  loud  and  quick,  unequal, 
spoken  apparently  in  fear  as  well  as  in  anger.  The 
voice  was  harsh,  not  so  much  shrill  as  harsh.  Could 
not  call  it  a  shrill  voice.  The  gruff  voice  said  re 
peatedly,  '  sacre/ '  diable/  and  once  'mon  Dieu,' 

"  Jules  Mignaud,  banker,  of  the  firm  of  Mignaud  et 
Fils,  Rue  Deloraine.  Is  the  elder  Mignaud.  Madame 
L'Espanaye  had  some  property.  Had  opened  an  ac 
count  with  his  banking  house  in  the  spring  of  the 
year  -  -  (eight  years  previously).  Made  frequent 
deposits  in  small  sums.  Had  checked  for  nothing 
until  the  third  day  before  her  death,  when  she  took 
out  in  person  the  sum  of  4,000  francs.  This  sum  was 
paid  in  gold,  and  a  clerk  sent  home  with  the  money. 

"  Adolphe  Le  Bon,  clerk  to  Mignaud  et  Fils,  deposes 
that  on  the  day  in  question,  about  noon,  he  accom 
panied  Madame  L'Espanaye  to  her  residence  with  the 
4,000  francs,  put  up  in  two  bags.  Upon  the  door  being 
opened,  Mademoiselle  L.  appeared  and  took  from  his 
hands  one  of  the  bags,  while  the  old  lady  relieved  him 
of  the  other.  He  then  bowed  and  departed.  Did  not 
see  any  person  in  the  street  at  the  time.  It  is  a  by 
street,  very  lonely. 

"  William  Bird,  tailor,  deposes  that  he  was  one  of 
the  party  who  entered  the  house.  Is  an  Englishman. 
Has  lived  in  Paris  two  years.  Was  one  of  the  first  to 
ascend  the  stairs.  Heard  the  voices  in  contention. 
The  gruff  voice  was  that  of  a  Frenchman.  Could 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

make  out  several  words,  but  cannot  now  remember 
all.  Heard  distinctly  '  sacre  '  and  '  mon  Dieu/  There 
was  a  sound  at  the  moment  as  if  of  several  persons 
struggling;  a  scraping  and  scuffling  sound.  The 
shrill  voice  was  very  loud,  louder  than  the  gruff  one. 
Is  sure  that  it  was  not  the  voice  of  an  Englishman. 
Appeared  to  be  that  of  a  German.  Might  have  been 
a  woman's  voice.  Does  not  understand  German. 

"  Four  of  the  above-named  witnesses,  being  recalled, 
deposed  that  the  door  of  the  chamber  in  which  was 
found  the  body  of  Mademoiselle  L.  was  locked  on  the 
inside  when  the  party  reached  it.  Everything  was 
perfectly  silent,  no  groans  or  noises  of  any  kind. 
Upon  forcing  the  door  no  person  was  seen.  The 
windows,  both  of  the  back  and  front  room,  were  down 
and  firmly  fastened  from  within.  A  door  between 
the  two  rooms  was  closed  but  not  locked.  The  door 
leading  from  the  front  room  into  the  passage  was 
locked,  with  the  key  on  the  inside.  A  small  room  in 
the  front  of  the  house,  on  the  fourth  story,  at  the 
head  of  the  passage,  was  open,  the  door  being  ajar. 
This  room  was  crowded  with  old  beds,  boxes,  and  so 
forth.  These  were  carefully  removed  and  searched. 
There  was  not  an  inch  of  any  portion  of  the  house 
which  was  not  carefully  searched.  Sweeps  were  sent 
up  and  down  the  chimneys.  The  house  was  a  four- 
story  one,  with  garrets  (mansardes),  A  trap-door  on 
the  roof  was  nailed  down  very  securely;  did  not 

IQJ 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

appear  to  have  been  opened  for  years.  The  time 
elapsing  between  the  hearing  of  the  voices  in  conten 
tion  and  the  breaking  open  of  the  room  door  was  vari 
ously  stated  by  the  witnesses.  Some  made  it  as  short 
as  three  minutes,  some  as  long  as  five.  The  door  was 
opened  with  difficulty. 

"  Alfonzo  Garcio,  undertaker,  deposes  that  he  re 
sides  in  the  Rue  Morgue.  Is  a  native  of  Spain.  Was 
one  of  the  party  who  entered  the  house.  Did  not 
proceed  up-stairs.  Is  nervous,  and  was  apprehen 
sive  of  the  consequences  of  agitation.  Heard  the 
voices  in  contention.  The  gruff  voice  was  that  of  a 
Frenchman.  Could  not  distinguish  what  was  said. 
The  shrill  voice  was  that  of  an  Englishman ;  is  sure  of 
this.  Does  not  understand  the  English  language,  but 
judges  by  the  intonation. 

"  Alberto  Montani,  confectioner,  deposes  that  he 
was  among  the  first  to  ascend  the  stairs.  Heard  the 
voices  in  question.  The  gruff  voice  was  that  of  a 
Frenchman.  Distinguished  several  words.  The 
speaker  appeared  to  be  expostulating.  Could  not 
make  out  the  words  of  the  shrill  voice.  Spoke  quick 
and  unevenly.  Thinks  it  the  voice  of  a  Russian. 
Corroborates  the  general  testimony.  Is  an  Italian. 
Never  conversed  with  a  native  of  Russia. 

"  Several  witnesses,  recalled,  here  testified  that  the 
chimneys  of  all  the  rooms  on  the  fourth  story  were 
too  narrow  to  admit  the  passage  of  a  human  being. 

'95 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

By  <  sweeps  '  were  meant  cylindrical  sweeping-brushes, 
such  as  are  employed  by  those  who  clean  chimneys. 
These  brushes  were  passed  up  and  down  every  flue  ii 
the  house.  There  is  no  back  passage  by  which  any 
one  could  have  descended  while  the  party  proceeded 
up-stairs.  The  body  of  Madamoiselle  L'Espanaye 
was  so  firmly  wedged  in  the  chimney  that  it  could  not 
be  got  down  until  four  or  five  of  the  party  united  their 
strength. 

"  Paul  Dumas,  physician,  deposes  that  he  was  called 
to  view  the  bodies  about  daybreak.  They  were  both 
then  lying  on  the  sacking  of  the  bedstead  in  the 
chamber  where  Mademoiselle  L.  was  found.  The 
corpse  of  the  young  lady  was  much  bruised  and 
excoriated.  The  fact  that  it  had  been  thrust  up  the 
chimney  would  sufficiently  account  for  these  appear 
ances.  The  throat  was  greatly  chafed.  There  were 
several  deep  scratches  just  below  the  chin,  together 
with  a  series  of  livid  spots  which  were  evidently  the 
impression  of  fingers.  The  face  was  fearfully  discol 
ored,  and  the  eyeballs  protruded.  The  tongue  had 
been  partially  bitten  through.  A  large  bruise  was 
discovered  upon  the  pit  of  the  stomach,  produced,  ap 
parently,  by  the  pressure  of  a  knee.  In  the  opinion 
of  M.  Dumas,  Mademoiselle  L'Espanaye  had  been 
throttled  to  death  by  some  person  or  persons  unknown. 
The  corpse  of  the  mother  was  horribly  mutilated.  All 
the  bones  of  the  right  leg  and  arm  were  more  or  less 

196 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

shattered.  The  left  tibia  much  splintered,  as  well  as 
all  the  ribs  of  the  left  side.  Whole  body  dreadfully 
"jruised  and  discolored.  It  was  not  possible  to  say 
how  the  injuries  had  been  inflicted.  A  heavy  club  of 
wood,  or  a  broad  bar  of  iron,  a  chair,  any  large,  heavy, 
and  obtuse  weapon  would  have  produced  such  results, 
if  wielded  by  the  hands  of  a  very  powerful  man.  No 
woman  could  have  inflicted  the  blows  with  any  weapon. 
The  head  of  the  deceased,  when  seen  by  witness,  was 
entirely  separated  from  the  body,  and  was  also  greatly 
shattered.  The  throat  had  evidently  been  cut  with 
some  very  sharp  instrument,  probably  with  a  razor. 

"  Alexandre  Etienne,  surgeon,  was  called  with  M. 
Dumas  to  view  the  bodies.  Corroborated  the  testi 
mony  and  the  opinions  of  M.  Dumas. 

"  Nothing  further  of  importance  was  elicited, 
although  several  other  persons  were  examined.  A 
murder  so  mysterious,  and  so  perplexing  in  all  its 
particulars,  was  never  before  committed  in  Paris,  if, 
indeed,  a  murder  has  been  committed  at  all.  The 
police  are  entirely  at  fault,  an  unusual  occurrence  in 
affairs  of  this  nature.  There  is  not,  however,  the 
shadow  of  a  clew  apparent." 

The  evening  edition  of  the  paper  stated  that  the 
greatest  excitement  still  continued  in  the  Quartier  St. 
Roch ;  that  the  premises  in  question  had  been  carefully 
researched,  ^nd  fresh  examinations  of  witnesses  insti 
tuted,  but  all  fapo  purpose.  A  postscript,  however, 

197 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

mentioned  that  Adolphe  Le  Bon  had  been  arrested 
and  imprisoned,  although  nothing  appeared  to  crimi 
nate  him  beyond  the  facts  already  detailed. 

Dupin  seemed  singularly  interested  in  the  progress 
of  this  affair — at  least  so  I  judged  from  his  manner, 
for  he  made  no  comments.  It  was  only  after  the 
announcement  that  Le  Bon  had  been  imprisoned,  that 
he  asked  me  my  opinion  respecting  the  murders. 

I  could  merely  agree  with  all  Paris  in  considering 
them  an  insoluble  mystery.  I  saw  no  means  by  which 
it  would  be  possible  to  trace  the  murderer. 

"  We  must  not  judge  of  the  means,"  said  Dupin, 
"  by  this  shell  of  an  examination.  The  Parisian  police, 
so  much  extolled  for  acumen,  are  cunning,  bu?t  no 
more.  There  is  no  method  in  their  proceedings,  be 
yond  the  method  of  the  moment.  They  make  a  vast 
parade  of  measures ;  but,  not  unf requently,  these  are 
so  ill-adapted  to  the  objects  proposed,  as  to  put  us  in 
mind  of  Monsieur  Jourdain's  calling  for  his  robe  de 
chambre  pour  mieux  entendre  la  musique,  The  re 
sults  attained  by  them  are  not  unfrequently  surprising 
but,  for  the  most  part,  are  brought  about  by  simple 
diligence  and  activity.  When  these  qualities  are  un 
availing,  their  schemes  fail.  Vidocq,  for  example,  was 
a  good  guesser,  and  a  persevering  man.  But,  withou 
*  educated  thought,  he  erred  contirifcally  by  the  ven 
intensity  of  his  investigations.  He  impaired  his  visior 
by  holding  the  object  too  close.  H|^^ight  see, 

198 


,  per 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

haps,  one  or  two  points  with  unusual  clearness,  but  in 
so  doing,  he  necessarily  lost  sight  of  the  matter  as  a 
whole.  Thus  there  is  such  a  thing  as  being  too  pro 
found.  Truth  is  not  always  in  a  well.  In  fact,  as 
regards  the  more  important  knowledge,  I  do  believe 
that  she  is  invariably  superficial.  The  depth  lies  in  the 
valleys  where  we  seek  her,  and  not  upon  the  mountain- 
tops  where  she  is  found.  The  modes  and  sources  of 
this  kind  of  error  are  well  typified  in  the  contempla 
tion  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  To  look  at  a  star  by 
glances,  to  view  it  in  a  sidelong  way,  by  turning 
toward  it  the  exterior  portions  of  the  retina  (more  sus 
ceptible  of  feeble  impressions  of  light  than  the  interior), 
is  to  behold  the  star  distinctly,  is  to  have  the  best 
appreciation  of  its  lustre — a  lustre  which  grows  dim 
just  in  proportion  as  we  turn  our  vision  fully  upon  it. 
A  greater  number  of  rays  actually  fall  upon  the  eye  in 
the  latter  case,  but  in  the  former,  there  is  the  more 
refined  capacity  for  comprehension.  By  undue  pro 
fundity  we  perplex  and  enfeeble  thought;  and  it  is 
possible  to  make  even  Venus  herself  vanish  from  the 
firmament  by  a  scrutiny  too  sustained,  too  concen 
trated,  or  too  direct. 

"  As  for  these  murders,  let  us  enter  into  some  ex 
aminations  for  ourselves,  before  we  make  up  an 
opinion  respecting  them.  An  inquiry  will  afford  us 
amusement  [I  thought  this  an  odd  term,  so  applied, 
but  said  nothuyj],  and  besides,  Le  Bon  once  rendered 

199 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

&e  a  service  for  which  I  am  not  ungrateful.     We 
will  go  and  see  the  premises  with  our  own  eyes.     I 

know  G ,  the  Prefect  of  Police,  and  shall  have  no 

difficulty  in  obtaining  the  necessary  permission." 

The  permission  was  obtained,  and  we  proceeded  at 
once  to  the  Rue  Morgue.  This  is  one  of  those  misera 
ble  thoroughfares  which  intervene  between  the  Rue 
Richelieu  and  the  Rue  St.  Roch.  It  was  late  hi  the 
afternoon  when  we  reached  it,  as  this  quarter  is  at  a 
great  distance  from  that  in  which  we  resided.  The 
house  was  readily  found;  for  there  were  still  many 
persons  gazing  up  at  the  closed  shutters,  with  an 
objectless  curiosity,  from  the  opposite  side  of  the  way. 
It  was  an  ordinary  Parisian  house,  with  a  gateway, 
on  one  side  of  which  was  a  glazed  watch-box,  with 
sliding  panel  in  the  window,  indicating  a  loge  dt 
concierge.  Before  going  in  we  walked  up  the  streel 
turned  down  an  alley,  and  then,  again  turning,  passe 
in  the  rear  of  the  building;  Dupin,  meanwhile,  ex 
amining  the  whole  neighborhood,  as  well  as  the  house, 
with  a  minuteness  of  attention  for  which  I  could  see 
no  possible  object. 

Retracing  our  steps  we  came  again  to  the  front  of 
the  dwelling,  rang,  and,  having  shown  our  credentials 
were  admitted  by  the  agents  in  charge.  We  went  up 
stairs,  into  the  chamber  where  the  body  of  Mademoiselle 
L'Espanaye  had  been  found,  and  where  both  the 
deceased  still  lay.  The  disorders  of  tte  room  had,  as 


200 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

usual,  been  suffered  to  exist.  I  saw  nothing  beyond 
what  had  been  stated  in  the  Gazette  des  Tribunal** 
Dupin  scrutinized  everything,  not  excepting  the  bodies 
of  the  victims.  We  then  went  into  the  other  rooms, 
and  into  the  yard,  a  gendarme  accompanying  us 
throughout.  The  examination  occupied  us  until  dark, 
when  we  took  our  departure.  On  our  way  home  my 
companion  stepped  in  for  a  moment  at  the  office  of 
one  of  the  daily  papers. 

I  have  said  that  the  whims  of  my  friend  were  mani 
fold,  and  that  je  les  menagais  /  for  this  phrase  there  is 
no  English  equivalent.  It  was  his  humor,  now,  to 
decline  all  conversation  on  the  subject  of  the  murder 
until  about  noon  the  next  day.  He  then  asked  me, 
suddenly,  if  I  had  observed  anything  peculiar  at  the 
scene  of  the  atrocity. 

There  was  something  in  his  manner  of  emphasizing 
the  word  "  peculiar,"  which  caused  me  to  shudder, 
without  knowing  why. 

"  No,  nothing  peculiar/'  I  said;  "  nothing  more,  at 
least,  than  we  both  saw  stated  in  the  paper." 

"  The  Gazette/1  he  replied,  "  has  not  entered,  I  fear, 
into  the  unusual  horror  of  the  thing.  But  dismiss  the 
idle  opinions  of  this  print.  It  appears  to  me  that  this 
mystery  is  considered  insoluble  for  the  very  reason 
which  should  cause  it  to  be  regarded  as  easy  of  solu 
tion—I  mean  for  the  outre  character  of  its  features. 
The  police  are  confounded  by  the  seeming  absence  of 

201 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

motive,  not  for  the  murder  itself,  but  for  the  atrocity  of 
the  murder.  They  are  puzzled,  too,  by  the  seeming 
impossibility  of  reconciling  the  voices  heard  in  con 
tention  with  the  facts  that  no  one  was  discovered 
upstairs  but  the  assassinated  Mademoiselle  L'Espan- 
aye,  and  that  there  were  no  means  of  egress  without 
the  notice  of  the  party  ascending.  The  wild  disorder 
of  the  room;  the  corpse  thrust,  with  the  head  down 
ward,  up  the  chimney ;  the  frightful  mutilation  of  the 
\  body  of  the  old  lady, — these  considerations,  with  those 
just  mentioned,  and  others  which  I  need  not  mention, 
have  sufficed  to  paralyze  the  powers,  by  putting  com 
pletely  at  fault  the  boasted  acumen,  of  the  government 
agents.  They  have  fallen  into  the  gross  but  common 
v  error  of  confounding  the  unusual  with  the  abstruse. 
But  it  is  by  these  deviations  from  the  plane  of  the 
ordinary  that  reason  feels  its  way,  if  at  all,  in  its 
search  for  the  true.  In  investigations  such  as  we  are 
now  pursuing,  it  should  not  be  so  much  asked,  *  What 
has  occurred,'  as,  *  What  has  occurred  that  has  never 
occurred  before.'  In  fact,  the  facility  with  which  I 
shall  arrive,  or  have  arrived,  at  the  solution  of  this 
mystery  is  in  the  direct  ratio  of  its  apparent  insolu 
bility  in  the  eyes  of  the  police." 

I  stared  at  the  speaker  in  mute  astonishment. 

"  I  am  now  awaiting,"  continued  he,  looking  toward 
the  door  of  our  apartment, — "  I  am  now  awaiting  a  per 
son  who,  although  perhaps  not  the  perpetrator  of  these 

202 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

butcheries,  must  have  been  in  some  measure  impli 
cated  in  their  perpetration.  Of  the  worst  portion  of 
the  crimes  committed,  it  is  probable  that  he  is  inno 
cent.  I  hope  that  I  am  right  in  this  supposition ;  for 
upon  it  I  build  my  expectation  of  reading  the  entire 
riddle.  I  look  for  the  man  here,  in  this  room,  every 
moment.  It  is  true  that  he  may  not  arrive;  but  the 
probability  is  that  he  will.  Should  he  come,  it  will  be 
necessary  to  detain  him.  Here  are  pistols;  and  we 
both  know  how  to  use  them  when  occasion  demands 
their  use." 

I  took  the  pistols,  scarcely  knowing  what  I  did,  or 
believing  what  I  heard,  while  Dupin  went  on,  very 
much  as  if  in  a  soliloquy.  I  have  already  spoken  of 
his  abstract  manner  at  such  times.  His  discourse  was 
addressed  to  myself;  but  his  voice,  although  by  no 
means  loud,  had  that  intonation  which  is  commonly 
employed  in  speaking  to  some  one  at  a  great  distance. 
His  eyes,  vacant  in  expression,  regarded  only  the  wall. 

"  That  the  voices  heard  in  contention,"  he  said,  "  by 
the  party  upon  the  stairs  were  not  the  voices  of  the 
women  themselves  was  fully  proved  by  the  evidence. 
This  relieves  us  of  all  doubt  upon  the  question  whether 
the  old  lady  could  have  first  destroyed  the  daughter, 
and  afterward  have  committed  suicide.  I  speak  of  this 
point  chiefly  for  the  sake  of  method ;  for  the  strength 
of  Madame  L'Espanaye  would  have  been  utterly  un 
equal  to  the  task  of  thrusting  her  daughter's  corpse 

203 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

up  the  chimney  as  it  was  found;  and  the  nature  of 
the  wounds  upon  her  own  person  entirely  precludes 
the  idea  of  self-destruction.  Murder,  then,  has  been 
committed  by  some  third  party ;  and  the  voices  of  this 
third  party  were  those  heard  in  contention.  Let  me 
now  advert,  not  to  the  whole  testimony  respecting 
these  voices,  but  to  what  was  peculiar  in  that  testi 
mony.  Did  you  observe  anything  peculiar  about  it  ?  " 

I  remarked  that,  while  all  the  witnesses  agreed  in 
supposing  the  gruff  voice  to  be  that  of  a  Frenchman, 
there  was  much  disagreement  in  regard  to  the  shrill, 
or,  as  one  individual  termed  it,  the  harsh  voice. 

"  That  was  the  evidence  itself,"  said  Dupin,  "  but  it 
was  not  the  peculiarity  of  the  evidence.  You  have 
observed  nothing  distinctive.  Yet  there  was  some 
thing  to  be  observed.  The  witnesses,  as  you  remark, 
agreed  about  the  gruff  voice ;  they  were  here  unani 
mous.  But  in  regard  to  the  shrill  voice,  the  peculiarity 
is,  not  that  they  disagreed,  but  that,  while  an  Italian, 
an  Englishman,  a  Spaniard,  a  Hollander,  and  a 
Frenchman  attempted  to  describe  it,  each  one  spoke 
of  it  as  that  of  a  foreigner.  Each  is  sure  that  it  was 
not  the  voice  of  one  of  his  own  countrymen.  Each 
likens  it,  not  to  the  voice  of  an  individual  of  any 
nation  with  whose  language  he  is  conversant,  but  the 
converse.  The  Frenchman  supposes  it  the  voice  of  a 
Spaniard,  and  '  might  have  distinguished  some  words 
had  he  been  acquainted  with  the  Spanish.*  The 

204 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

Dutchman  maintains  it  to  have  been  that  of  a  French 
man  ;  but  we  find  it  stated  that  '  not  understanding 
French  this  witness  was  examined  through  an  inter 
preter.'  The  Englishman  thinks  it  the  voice  of  a 
Grerman,  and  *  does  not  understand  German.'  The 
Spaniard  *  is  sure '  that  it  was  that  of  an  Englishman, 
but  *  judges  by  the  intonation '  altogether,  '  as  he  has 
no  knowledge  of  the  English.'  The  Italian  believes  it 

he  voice  of  a  Russian,  but '  has  never  conversed  with  a 
native  of  Russia.'  A  second  Frenchman  differs,  more 
over,  with  the  first,  and  is  positive  that  the  voice  was 

hat  of  an  Italian;  but,  not  being  cognizant  of  that 

ongue,  is,  like  the  Spaniard,  *  convinced  by  the  in- 

onation.'  Now,  how  strangely  unusual  must  that 
voice  have  really  been,  about  which  such  testimony 
as  this  could  have  been  elicited!  in  whose  tones, 
even,  denizens  of  the  five  great  divisions  of  Europe 
could  recognize  nothing  familiar!  You  will  say  that 

t  might  have  been  the  voice  of  an  Asiatic;  of  an 
African.  Neither  Asiatics  nor  Africans  abound  in 

Paris ;  but,  without  denying  the  inference,  I  will  now 
merely  call  your  attention  to  three  points.  The  voice 

s  termed  by  one  witness  *  harsh  rather  than  shrill.' 
It  is  represented  by  two  others  to  have  been  *  quick 
and  unequal.'  No  words,  no  sounds  resembling  words, 
were  by  any  witness  mentioned  as  distinguishable. 

"  I  know  not,"  continued  Dupin,  "  what  impression 
[  may  have  made,  so  far,  upon  your  own  understand* 

205 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

ing;  but  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say  that  legitimate  de 
ductions  even  from  this  portion  of  the  testimony  (the 
portion  respecting  the  gruff  and  shrill  voices)  are  in 
themselves  sufficient  to  engender  a  suspicion  which 
should  give  direction  to  all  farther  progress  in  the 
investigation  of  the  mystery.  I  said  '  legitimate  de 
ductions  J ;  but  my  meaning  is  not  thus  fully  ex 
pressed.  I  designed  to  imply  that  the  deductions  are 
the  sole  proper  ones,  and  that  the  suspicion  arises 
inevitably  from  them  as  the  single  result.  What  the 
suspicion  is,  however,  I  will  not  say  just  yet.  I  merely 
wish  you  to  bear  in  mind  that,  with  myself,  it  was 
sufficiently  forcible  to  give  a  definite  form,  a  certain 
tendency,  to  my  inquiries  in  the  chamber. 

"  Let  us  now  transport  ourselves,  in  fancy,  to  this 
chamber.  What  shall  we  first  seek  here  ?  The 
means  of  egress  employed  by  the  murderers.  It  is  not 
too  much  to  say  that  neither  of  us  believe  in  preter 
natural  events.  Madame  and  Mademoiselle  L'Es- 
panaye  were  not  destroyed  by  spirits.  The  doers  of 
the  deed  were  material  and  escaped  materially.  Then 
how  ?  Fortunately  there  is  but  one  mode  of  reasoning 
upon  the  point,  and  that  mode  must  lead  us  to  a  def 
inite  decision.  Let  us  examine,  each  by  eachj  the 
possible  means  of  egress.  It  is  clear  that  the  assassins 
were  in  the  room  where  Mademoiselle  L'Espanaye 
was  found,  or  at  least  in  the  room  adjoining,  when 
the  party  ascended  the  stairs.  It  is,  then,  only  from 

206 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

these  two  apartments  that  we  have  to  seek  issues. 
The  police  have  laid  bare  the  floors,  the  ceiling,  and 
the  masonry  of  the  walls,  in  every  direction.  No  secret 
issues  could  have  escaped  their  vigilance.  But,  not 
trusting  to  their  eyes,  I  examined  with  my  own. 
There  were,  then,  no  secret  issues.  Both  doors  leading 
from  the  rooms  into  the  passage  were  securely  locked, 
with  the  keys  inside.  Let  us  turn  to  the  chimneys. 
These,  although  of  ordinary  width  for  some  eight  or 
ten  feet  above  the  hearths,  will  not  admit,  throughout 
their  extent,  the  body  of  a  large  cat.  The  impossi 
bility  of  egress,  by  means  already  stated,  being  thus 
absolute,  we  are  reduced  to  the  windows.  Through 
those  of  the  front  room  no  one  could  have  escaped 
without  notice  from  the  crowd  in  the  street.  The 
murderers  must  have  passed,  then,  through  those  of 
the  back  room.  Now,  brought  to  this  conclusion  in 
so  unequivocal  a  manner  as  we  are,  it  is  not  our  part, 
as  reasoners,  to  reject  it  on  account  of  apparent  im 
possibilities.  It  is  only  left  for  us  to  prove  that  these 
apparent  '  impossibilities  '  are,  hi  reality,  not  such. 

"  There  are  two  windows  in  the  chamber.  One  of 
them  is  unobstructed  by  furniture,  and  is  wholly 
visible.  The  lower  portion  of  the  other  is  hidden  from 
view  by  the  head  of  the  unwieldy  bedstead  which  is 
thrust  close  up  against  it.  The  former  was  found 
securely  fastened  from  within.  It  resisted  the  utmost 
force  of  those  who  endeavored  to  raise  it.  A  large 

207 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

•4  gimlet-hole  had  been  pierced  in  its  frame  to  the  left, 
^  and  a  very  stout  nail  was  found  fitted  therein,  nearly 
to  the  head.  Upon  examining  the  other  window,  a 
similar  nail  was  seen  similarly  fitted  in  it;  and  a 
vigorous  attempt  to  raise  this  sash  failed  also.  The 
police  were  now  entirely  satisfied  that  egress  had  not 
been  in  these  directions.  And,  therefore,  it  was 
thought  a  matter  of  supererogation  to  withdraw  the 
nails  and  open  the  windows. 

"  My  own  examination  was  somewhat  more  par 
ticular,  and  was  so  for  the  reason  I  have  just  given, 
because  here  it  was,  I  knew,  that  all  apparent  im 
possibilities  must  be  proved  to  be  not  such  in  reality. 

"  I  proceeded  to  think  thus,  a  posteriori  i  The 
murderers  did  escape  from  one  of  these  windows.  This 
being  so,  they  could  not  have  refastened  the  sashes 
from  the  inside,  as  they  were  found  fastened, — the 
consideration  which  put  a  stop,  through  its  obvious 
ness,  to  the  scrutiny  of  the  police  in  this  quarter. 
Yet  the  sashes  were  fastened.  They  must,  then,  have 
the  power  of  fastening  themselves.  There  was  no 
escape  from  this  conclusion.  I  stepped  to  the  unob 
structed  casement,  withdrew  the  nail  with  some  diffi 
culty,  and  attempted  to  raise  the  sash.  It  resisted  all 
my  efforts,  as  I  had  anticipated.  A  concealed  spring 
must,  I  now  knew,  exist;  and  this  corroboration  of 
my  idea  convinced  me  that  my  premises,  at  least,  were 
correct,  however  mysterious  still  appeared  the  cir- 

208 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

cumstances  attending  the  nails.  A  careful  search 
soon  brought  to  light  the  hidden  spring.  I  pressed  it, 
and,  satisfied  with  the  discovery,  forbore  to  upraise 
the  sash. 

"  I  now  replaced  the  nail  and  regarded  it  attentively. 
A  person  passing  out  through  this  window  might  have 
reclosed  it,  and  the  spring  would  have  caught,  but  the 
nail  could  not  have  been  replaced.  The  conclusion 
was  plain,  and  again  narrowed  in  the  field  of  my  in 
vestigations.  The  assassins  must  have  escaped  through 
the  other  window.  Supposing,  then,  the  springs  upon 
each  sash  to  be  the  same,  as  was  probable,  there  must 
be  found  a  difference  between  the  nails,  or  at  least  be 
tween  the  modes  of  their  fixture.  Getting  upon  the 
sacking  of  the  bedstead,  I  looked  over  the  headboard 
minutely  at  the  second  casement.  Passing  my  hand 
down  behind  the  board,  I  readily  discovered  and 
pressed  the  spring,  which  was,  as  I  had  supposed,  ident 
ical  in  character  with  its  neighbor.  I  now  looked  at  the 
nail.  It  was  as  stout  as  the  other,  and  apparently  fit 
ted  in  the  same  manner,  driven  in  nearly  up  to  the  head. 

"  You  will  say  that  I  was  puzzled ;  but,  if  you  think 
so,  you  must  have  misunderstood  the  nature  of  the 
inductions.  To  use  a  sporting  phrase,  I  had  not  been 
once  '  at  fault.'  The  scent  had  never  for  an  instant 
been  lost.  There  was  no  flaw  in  any  link  of  the  chain. 
I  had  traced  the  secret  to  its  ultimate  result,  and  that 
result  was  the  nail.  It  had,  I  say,  in  every  respect, 
VOL.  w.~I4. 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

the  appearance  of  its  fellow  in  the  other  window ,  but 
this  fact  was  an  absolute  nullity  (conclusive  is  it 
might  seem  to  be)  when  compared  with  the  con 
sideration  that  here,  at  this  point,  terminated  the 
clew.  *  There  must  be  something  wrong,'  I  said, 
4  about  the  nail.'  I  touched  it ;  and  the  head,  with 
about  a  quarter  of  an  inch  of  the  shank,  came  off  in 
my  fingers.  The  rest  of  the  shank  was  in  the  gimlet- 
hole,  where  it  had  been  broken  off.  The  fracture  was 
an  old  one  (for  its  edges  were  incrusted  with  rust), 
and  had  apparently  been  accomplished  by  the  blow 
of  a  hammer,  which  had  partially  imbedded,  hi  the 
top  of  the  bottom  sash,  the  head  portion  of  the  nail. 
I  now  carefully  replaced  this  head  portion  in  the  inden 
tation  whence  I  had  taken  it,  and  the  resemblance  to  a 
perfect  nail  was  complete;  the  fissure  was  invisible. 
Pressing  the  spring,  I  gently  raised  the  sash  for  a  few 
inches ;  the  head  went  up  with  it,  remaining  firm  in  its 
bed.  I  closed  the  window,  and  the  semblance  of  the 

whole  nail  was  again  perfect. 

\ 

"  This  riddle,  so  far,  was  now  unriddled.  The  as 
sassin  had  escaped  through  the  window  which  looked 
upon  the  bed.  Dropping  of  its  own  accord  upon  his 
exit  (or  perhaps  purposely  closed),  it  had  become 
fastened  by  the  spring;  and  it  was  the  retention  cf 
this  spring  which  had  been  mistaken  by  the  police  fot 
that  of  the  nail,  further  inquiry  being  thus  considered 
unnecessary. 

210 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

"  The  next  question  is  that  of  the  mode  of  descent. 
Upon  this  point  I  had  been  satisfied  in  my  walk  with 
you  around  the  building.  About  five  feet  and  a  half 
from  the  casement  in  question  there  runs  a  lightning- 
rod.  From  this  rod  it  would  have  been  impossible 
for  any  one  to  reach  the  window  itself,  to  say  nothing 
of  entering  it.  I  observed,  however,  that  the  shutters 
of  the  fourth  story  were  of  the  peculiar  kind  called  by 
Parisian  carpenters  ferrades,  a  kind  rarely  employed 
at  the  present  day,  but  frequently  seen  upon  very  old 
mansions  at  Lyons  and  Bordeaux.  They  are  in  the 
form  of  an  ordinary  door  (a  single,  not  a  folding 
door),  except  that  the  lower  half  is  latticed  or  worked 
in  open  trellis,  thus  affording  an  excellent  hold  for  the 
hands.  In  the  present  instance  these  shutters  are  fully 
three  feet  and  a  half  broad.  When  we  saw  them  from 
the  rear  of  the  house,  they  were  both  about  half  open ; 
that  is  to  say,  they  stood  off  at  right  angles  from  the 
wall.  It  is  probable  that  the  police,  as  well  as  myself, 
examined  the  back  of  the  tenement;  but,  if  so,  in 
looking  at  these  ferrades  in  the  line  of  their  breadth 
(as  they  must  have  done),  they  did  not  perceive  this 
great  breadth  itself,  or,  at  all  events,  failed  to  take  it 
into  due  consideration.  In  fact,  having  once  satisfied 
themselves  that  no  egress  could  have  been  made  in 
this  quarter,  they  would  naturally  bestow  here  a  very 
cursory  examination.  It  was  clear  to  me,  however, 
that  the  shutter  belonging  to  the  window  at  the  head 

211 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

of  the  bed  would,  if  swung  fully  back  to  the  wall, 
reach  to  within  two  feet  of  the  lightning-rod.  It  was 
also  evident  that,  by  exertion  of  a  very  unusual  degree 
of  activity  and  courage,  an  entrance  into  the  window, 
from  the  rod,  might  have  been  thus  effected.  By 
reaching  to  the  distance  of  two  feet  and  a  half  (we 
now  suppose  the  shutter  open  to  its  whole  extent)  a 
robber  might  have  taken  a  firm  grasp  upon  the  trellis- 
work.  Letting  go,  then,  his  hold  upon  the  rod,  placing 
his  feet  securely  against  the  wall,  and  springing  boldly 
from  it,  he  might  have  swung  the  shutter  so  as  to  close 
it,  and,  if  we  imagine  the  window  open  at  the  time, 
might  even  have  swung  himself  into  the  room. 

"  I  wish  you  to  bear  especially  in  mind  that  I  have 
spoken  of  a  very  unusual  degree  of  activity  as  requisite 
to  success  in  so  hazardous  and  so  difficult  a  feat.  It 
is  my  design  to  show  you,  first,  that  the  thing  might 
possibly  have  been  accomplished:  but,  secondly  and 
chiefly,  I  wish  to  impress  upon  your  understanding 
the  very  extraordinary,  the  almost  preternatural 
character  of  that  agility  which  could  have  accom 
plished  it. 

"  You  will  say,  no  doubt,  using  the  language  of  the 
law,  that  '  to  make  out  my  case,'  I  should  rather  under 
value,  than  insist  upon  a  full  estimation  of  the  activity 
required  in  this  matter.  This  may  be  the  practice  in 
law,  but  is  it  not  the  usage  of  reason.  My  ultimate 
object  is  only  the  truth.  My  immediate  purpose  is 

212 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

to  lead  you  to  place  in  juxtaposition  that  very  unusual 
activity,  of  which  I  have  just  spoken,  with  that  very 
peculiar  shrill  (or  harsh)  and  unequal  voice,  about 
whose  nationality  no  two  persons  could  be  found  to 
agree,  and  in  whose  utterance  no  syllabification  could 
be  detected." 

At  these  words  a  vague  and  half-formed  conception 
of  the  meaning  of  Dupin  flitted  over  my  mind.  I 
seemed  to  be  upon  the  verge  of  comprehension,  with 
out  power  to  comprehend,  as  men,  at  times,  find 
themselves  upon  the  brink  of  remembrance,  without 
being  able,  in  the  end,  to  remember.  My  friend  went 
on  with  his  discourse. 

"  You  will  see,"  he  said,  "  that  I  have  shifted  the 
question  from  the  mode  of  egress  to  that  of  ingress. 
It  was  my  design  to  convey  the  idea  that  both  were 
effected  in  the  same  manner,  at  the  same  point.  Let 
us  now  revert  to  the  interior  of  the  room.  Let  us  sur 
vey  the  appearances  here.  The  drawers  of  the 
bureau,  it  is  said,  had  been  rifled,  although  many 
articles  of  apparel  still  remained  within  them.  The 
conclusion  here  is  absurd.  It  is  a  mere  guess,  a  very 
silly  one,  and  no  hiore.  How  are  we  to  know  that  the 
articles  found  in  the  drawers  were  not  all  these  drawers 
had  originally  con^ned  ?  Madame  L'Espanaye  and 
her  daughter  lived  an  exceedingly  retired  life,  saw  no 
company,  seldom  went  out,  had  little  use  for  numerous 
changes  of  habiliment.  Those  found  were  at  least  of 

213 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

as  good  quality  as  any  likely  to  be  possessed  by  these 
ladies.  If  a  thief  had  taken  any,  why  did  he  not  take 
the  best,  why  did  he  not  take  all  ?  In  a  word,  why 
did  he  abandon  four  thousand  francs  in  gold  to  en 
cumber  himself  with  a  bundle  of  linen  ?  The  gold 
was  abandoned.  Nearly  the  whole  sum  mentioned  by 
Monsieur  Mignaud,  the  banker,  was  discovered  in  bags 
upon  the  floor.  I  wish  you,  therefore,  to  discard  from 
your  thoughts  the  blundering  idea  of  motive,  engen 
dered  in  the  brains  of  the  police  by  that  portion  of 
the  evidence  which  speaks  of  money  delivered  at 
the  door  of  the  house.  Coincidences  ten  times  as  re 
markable  as  this  (the  delivery  of  the  money,  and 
murder  committed  within  three  days  upon  the  party 
receiving  it)  happen  to  all  of  us  every  hour  of  our 
lives,  without  attracting  even  momentary  notice. 
Coincidences,  in  general,  are  great  stumbling-blocks 
in  the  way  of  that  class  of  thinkers  who  have  been 
educated  to  know  nothing  of  the  theory  of  probabilities, 
that  theory  to  which  the  most  glorious  objects  of 
human  research  are  indebted  for  the  most  glorious  of 
illustration.  In  the  present  instance,  had  the  gold  been 
gone,  the  fact  of  its  delivery  three  days  before  would 
have  formed  something  more  than  a  coincidence.  It 
would  have  been  corroborative  of  this  idea  of  motive. 
But,  under  the  real  circumstances  of  the  case,  if  we 
are  to  suppose  gold  the  motive  of  this  outrage,  we 
must  also  imagine  the  perpetrator  so  vacillating  an 

214 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

idiot  as  to  have  abandoned  his  gold  and  his  motive 
together. 

"  Keeping  now  steadily  in  mind  the  points  to  which 
1  iiave  drawn  your  attention,— that  peculiar  voice,  that 
unusual  agility,  and  that  startling  absence  of  motive 
in  a  murder  so  singularly  atrocious  as  this,  let  us  glance 
at  the  butchery  itself.  Here  is  a  woman  strangled  to 
death  by  manual  strength,  and  thrust  up  a  chimney 
head  downward.  Ordinary  assassins  employ  no  such 
mode  of  murder  as  this.  Least  of  all,  do  they  thus 
dispose  of  the  murdered.  In  the  manner  of  thrusting 
the  corpse  up  the  chimney,  you  will  admit  that  there 
was  something  excessively  outre,  something  altogether 
irreconcilable  with  our  common  notions  of  human 
action,  even  when  we  suppose  the  actors  the  most 
depraved  of  men.  Think,  too,  how  great  must  have 
been  that  strength  which  could  have  thrust  the  body 
up  such  an  aperture  so  forcibly  that  the  united  vigor 
of  several  persons  was  found  barely  sufficient  to  drag 
it  down  ! 

"  Turn,  now,  to  other  indications  of  the  employment 
of  a  vigor  most  marvellous.  On  the  hearth  were  thick 
tresses,  very  thick  tresses,  of  gray  human  hair.  These 
had  been  torn  out  by  the  roots.  You  are  aware  of  the 
great  force  necessary  in  tearing  thus  from  the  head 
even  twenty  or  thirty  hairs  together.  You  saw  the 
locks  in  question  as  well  as  myself.  Their  roots  (a 
hideous  sight!)  were  clotted  with  fragments  of  tne 

215 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

flesh  of  the  scalp :  sure  token  of  the  prodigious  power 
which  had  been  exerted  in  uprooting  perhaps  half 
a  million  of  hairs  at  a  time.  The  throat  of  the  old 
lady  was  not  merely  cut,  but  the  head  absolutely 
severed  from  the  body:  the  instrument  was  a  mere 
razor.  I  wish  you  also  to  look  at  the  brutal  ferocity 
of  these  deeds.  Of  the  bruises  upon  the  body  of 
Madame  L'Espanaye  I  do  not  speak.  Monsieur 
Dumas,  and  his  worthy  coadjutor,  Monsieur  Etienne, 
have  announced  that  they  were  inflicted  by  some 
obtuse  instrument;  and  so  far  these  gentlemen  are 
very  correct.  The  obtuse  instrument  was  clearly  the 
stone  pavement  in  the  yard,  upon  which  the  victim 
had  fallen  from  the  window  which  looked  in  upon 
the  bed.  This  idea,  however  simple  it  may  now  seem, 
escaped  the  police  for  the  same  reason  that  the  breadth 
of  the  shutters  escaped  them — because,  by  the  affair 
of  the  nails,  their  perceptions  had  been  hermetically 
sealed  against  the  possibility  of  the  windows  having 
ever  been  opened  at  all. 

"  If,  now,  in  addition  to  all  these  things,  you  have 
properly  reflected  upon  the  odd  disorder  of  the  chamber, 
we  have  gone  so  far  as  to  combine  the  ideas  of  an 
agility  astounding,  a  strength  superhuman,  a  ferocity 
brutal,  a  butchery  without  motive,  a  grotesquerie  in 
horror  absolutely  alien  from  humanity,  and  a  voice 
foreign  in  tone  to  the  ears  of  men  of  many  nations, 
and  devoid  of  all  distinct  or  intelligible  syllabification. 

216 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

What  result,  then,  has  ensued  ?  What  impression 
have  I  made  upon  your  fancy  ?  " 

I  felt  a  creeping  of  the  flesh  as  Dupin  asked  me  the 
question.  "  A  madman,"  I  said,  "  has  done  this  deed, 
some  raving  maniac,  escaped  from  a  neighboring 
Maison  de  Sante." 

"  In  some  respects,"  he  replied,  "  your  idea  is  not 
irrelevant.  But  the  voices  of  madmen,  even  in  their 
wildest  paroxysms,  are  never  found  to  tally  with  that 
peculiar  voice  heard  upon  the  stairs.  Madmen  are  of 
some  nation,  and  their  language,  however  incoherent 
in  its  words,  has  always  the  coherence  of  syllabifica 
tion.  Besides,  the  hair  of  a  madman  is  not  such  as 
I  now  hold  in  my  hand.  I  disentangled  this  little  tuft 
from  the  rigidly  clutched  fingers  of  Madame  L'Espa- 
naye.  Tell  me  what  you  can  make  of  it." 

"  Dupin!  "  I  said,  completely  unnerved;  "  this  hair 
is  most  unusual;  this  is  no  human  hair." 

"  I  have  not  asserted  that  it  is,"  said  he ;  "  but, 
before  we  decide  this  point,  I  wish  you  to  glance  at  the 
little  sketch  I  have  here  traced  upon  this  paper.  It  is 
a  facsimile  drawing  of  what  has  been  described  in 
one  portion  of  the  testimony  as  '  dark  bruises  and 
deep  indentations  of  finger  nails  *  upon  the  throat  of 
Mademoiselle  L'Espanaye,  and  in  another  (by  Messrs. 
Dumas  and  Etienne)  as  a  '  series  of  livid  spots,  evi 
dently  the  impression  of  fingers/ 

"  You  will  perceive,"  continued  my  friend,  spreading 
217 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

out  the  paper  upon  the  table  before  us,  "  that  this  draw 
ing  gives  the  idea  of  a  firm  and  fixed  hold.  There  is 
no  slipping  apparent.  Each  finger  has  retained,  possi 
bly  until  the  death  of  the  victim,  the  fearful  grasp  by 
which  it  originally  imbedded  itself.  Attempt,  now,  to 
place  all  your  fingers,  at  the  same  time,  in  the  respec 
tive  impressions  as  you  see  them." 

I  made  the  attempt  in  vain. 

"  We  are  possibly  not  giving  this  matter  a  fair  trial," 
he  said.  "  The  paper  is  spread  out  upon  a  plane  sur 
face,  but  the  human  throat  is  cylindrical.  Here  is  a 
billet  of  wood,  the  circumference  of  which  is  about  that 
of  the  throat.  Wrap  the  drawing  around  it,  and  try 
the  experiment  again." 

I  did  so;  but  the  difficulty  was  even  more  obvious 
than  before.  "  This,"  I  said,  "  is  the  mark  of  no 
human  hand." 

"  Read  now,"  replied  Dupin,  "  this  passage  from 
Cuvier." 

It  was  a  minute  anatomical  and  general  descriptive 
account  of  the  large  fulvous  Ourang-Outang  of  the 
East  Indian  Islands.  The  gigantic  stature,  the  pro 
digious  strength  and  activity,  the  wild  ferocity,  and 
the  imitative  propensities  of  these  mammalia  are  suf 
ficiently  well  known  to  all.  I  understood  the  full 
horrors  of  the  murder  at  once. 

"  The  description  of  the  digits,"  said  I,  as  I  made  an 
end  of  the  reading,  "  is  in  exact  accordance  with  this 

218 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

drawing.  I  see  that  no  animal  but  an  Ourang-Outang, 
of  the  species  here  mentioned,  could  have  impressed 
the  indentations  as  you  have  traced  them.  This  tuft 
of  tawny  hair,  too,  is  identical  in  character  with  that 
of  the  beast  of  Cuvier.  But  I  cannot  possibly  com 
prehend  the  particulars  of  this  frightful  mystery.  Be 
sides,  there  were  two  voices  heard  in  contention,  and 
one  of  them  was  unquestionably  the  voice  of  a  French 
man." 

"  True ;  and  you  will  remember  an  expression  attrib 
uted  almost  unanimously  by  the  evidence  to  this  voice, 
the  expression,  mon  Dieu  !  This,  under  the  circum 
stances,  has  been  justly  characterized  by  one  of  the 
witnesses  (Montani,  the  confectioner)  as  an  expression 
of  remonstrance  or  expostulation.  Upon  these  two 
words,  therefore,  I  have  mainly  built  my  hopes  of  a  full 
solution  of  the  riddle.  A  Frenchman  was  cognizant 
of  the  murder.  It  is  possible,  indeed  it  is  far  more 
than  probable,  that  he  was  innocent  of  all  participation 
in  the  bloody  transactions  which  took  place.  The 
Ourang-Outang  may  have  escaped  from  him.  He 
may  have  traced  it  to  the  chamber;  but,  under  the 
agitating  circumstances  which  ensued,  he  could  never 
have  recaptured  it.  It  is  still  at  large.  I  will  not  pur 
sue  these  guesses,  for  I  have  no  right  to  call  them  more, 
since  the  shades  of  reflection  upon  which  they  are 
based  are  scarcely  of  sufficient  depth  to  be  appreciable 
by  my  own  intellect,  and  since  I  could  not  pretend  to 

219 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

make  them  intelligible  to  the  understanding  of  another. 
We  will  call  them  guesses,  then,  and  speak  of  them  as 
such.  If  the  Frenchman  in  question  is  indeed,  as  I 
suppose,  innocent  of  this  atrocity,  this  advertisement, 
which  I  left  last  night,  upon  our  return  home,  at  the 
office  of  Le  Monde  (a  paper  devoted  to  the  shipping 
interest,  and  much  sought  by  sailors),  will  bring  him  to 
our  residence." 

He  handed  me  a  paper,  and  I  read  thus : 

"  CAUGHT.— In  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  early  in  the 
morning  of  the  —  —  inst.  [the  morning  of  the  murder], 
a  very  large,  tawny  Ourang-Outang  of  the  Bornese 
species.  The  owner  (who  is  ascertained  to  be  a  sailor, 
belonging  to  a  Maltese  vessel)  may  have  the  animal 
again,  upon  identifying  it  satisfactorily,  and  paying  a 
few  charges  arising  from  its  capture  and  keeping.  Call 
at  No.  -  -  Rue  -  — ,  Faubourg  St.  Germain,  au 
troisieme." 

"  How  was  it  possible,"  I  asked,  "  that  you  should 
know  the  man  to  be  a  sailor,  and  belonging  to  a 
Maltese  vessel  ?  " 

"  I  do  not  know  it,"  said  Dupin.  "  I  am  not  sure 
of  it.  Here,  however,  is  a  small  piece  of  ribbon,  which 
from  its  form,  and  from  its  greasy  appearance,  has 
evidently  been  used  in  tying  the  hair  in  one  of  those 
long  queues,  of  which  sailors  are  so  fond.  Moreover, 
this  knot  is  one  which  few  besides  sailors  can  tie,  and 

220 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

is  peculiar  to  the  Maltese.  I  picked  the  ribbon  up  at 
the  foot  of  the  lightning-rod.  It  could  not  have  be 
longed  to  either  of  the  deceased.  Now  if,  after  all,  I 
am  wrong  in  my  induction  from  this  ribbon,  that  the 
Frenchman  was  a  sailor  belonging  to  a  Maltese  vessel, 
still  I  can  have  done  no  harm  in  saying  what  I  did  in 
the  advertisement.  If  I  am  in  error,  he  will  merely 
suppose  that  I  have  been  misled  by  some  circumstance 
into  which  he  will  not  take  the  trouble  to  inquire. 
But  if  I  am  right,  a  great  point  is  gained.  Cognizant 
although  innocent  of  the  murder,  the  Frenchman  will 
naturally  hesitate  about  replying  to  the  advertisement, 
about  demanding  the  Ourang-Outang.  He  will  reason 
thus :  ' 1  am  innocent ;  I  am  poor ;  my  Ourang- 
Outang  is  of  great  value, — to  one  in  my  circumstances 
a  fortune  of  itself, — why  should  I  lose  it  through  idle 
apprehensions  of  danger  ?  Here  it  is,  within  my 
grasp.  It  was  found  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne,  at  a 
vast  distance  from  the  scene  of  that  butchery.  How 
can  it  ever  be  suspected  that  a  brute  beast  should  have 
done  the  deed?  The  police  are  at  fault;  they  have 
failed  to  procure  the  slightest  clew.  Should  they  even 
trace  the  animal,  it  would  be  impossible  to  prove  me 
cognizant  of  the  murder,  or  to  implicate  me  hi  guilt 
on  account  of  that  cognizance.  Above  all,  I  am 
known.  The  advertiser  designates  me  as  the  possessor 
of  the  beast.  I  am  not  sure  to  what  limit  his  knowl 
edge  may  extend.  Should  I  avoid  claiming  a  property 

221      ' 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

of  so  great  value,  which  it  is  known  that  I  possess,  I 
will  render  the  animal,  at  least,  liable  to  suspicion.  It 
is  not  my  policy  to  attract  attention  either  to  myself  or 
to  the  beast.  I  will  answer  the  advertisement,  get 
the  Ourang-Outang,  and  keep  it  close  until  this  matter 
has  blown  over/  " 

At  this  moment  we  heard  a  step  upon  the  stairs. 

"  Be  ready,"  said  Dupin,  "  with  your  pistols,  but 
neither  use  them  nor  show  them  until  at  a  signal  from 
myself." 

The  front  door  of  the  house  had  been  left  open,  and 
the  visitor  had  entered  without  ringing,  and  advanced 
several  steps  upon  the  staircase.  Now,  however,  he 
seemed  to  hesitate.  Presently  we  heard  him  descend 
ing.  Dupin  was  moving  quickly  to  the  door,  when 
we  again  heard  him  coming  up.  He  did  not  turn 
back  a  second  time,  but  stepped  up  with  decision,  and 
rapped  at  the  door  of  our  chamber. 

"  Come  in,"  said  Dupin,  in  a  cheerful  and  hearty 
tone. 

A  man  entered.  He  was  a  sailor,  evidently,  a  tall 
stout,  and  muscular-looking,  person,  with  a  certain 
dare-devil  expression  of  countenance,  not  altogether 
unprepossessing.  His  face,  greatly  sunburnt,  was 
more  than  half  hidden  by  whisker  and  mustachio, 
He  had  with  him  a  huge  oaken  cudgel,  but  appeared 
to  be  otherwise  unarmed.  He  bowed  awkwardly,  and 
bade  us  "  Good  evening,"  in  French  accents,  which, 

222 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

although  somewhat  Neufchatelish,  were  still  suffi 
ciently  indicative  of  a  Parisian  origin. 

"  Sit  down,  my  friend,"  said  Dupin.  "  I  suppose 
you  have  called  about  the  Ourang-Outang.  Upon  my 
word,  I  almost  envy  you  the  possession  of  him;  a 
remarkably  fine,  and  no  doubt  a  very  valuable  animal. 
How  old  do  you  suppose  him  to  be  ?  " 

The  sailor  drew  a  long  breath,  with  the  air  of  a  man 
relieved  of  some  intolerable  burden,  and  then  replied, 
in  an  assured  tone : 

"  I  have  no  way  of  telling,  but  he  can't  be  more 
than  four  or  five  years  old.  Have  you  got  him  here  ?  " 

"  Oh,  no ;  we  had  no  conveniences  for  keeping  him 
here.  He  is  at  a  livery  stable  hi  the  Rue  Dubourg, 
just  by.  You  can  get  him  in  the  morning.  Of  course 
you  are  prepared  to  identify  the  property  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  I  am,  sir." 

"  I  shall  be  sorry  to  part  with  him,"  said  Dupin. 

"  I  don't  mean  that  you  shall  be  at  all  this  trouble 
for  nothing,  sir,"  said  the  man.  "  Could  n't  expect  it. 
Am  very  willing  to  pay  a  reward  for  the  finding  of  the 
animal,  that  is  to  say,  anything  in  reason." 

"  Well,"  replied  my  friend,  "  that  is  all  very  fair,  to 
b§  sure.  Let  me  think!  what  should  I  have  ?  Oh! 
I  will  tell  you.  My  reward  shall  be  this.  You  shall 
give  me  all  the  information  in  your  power  about  these 
murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue." 

Dupin  said  the  last  words  hi  a  very  low  tone,  and 
223 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

very  quietly.  Just  as  quietly,  too,  he  walked  toward 
the  door,  locked  it,  and  put  the  key  in  his  pocket.  He 
then  drew  a  pistol  from  his  bosom  and  placed  it, 
without  the  least  flurry,  upon  the  table. 

The  sailor's  face  flushed  up  as  if  he  were  struggling 
with  suffocation.  He  started  to  his  feet  and  grasped 
his  cudgel ;  but  the  next  moment  he  fell  back  into  his 
seat,  trembling  violently,  and  with  the  countenance 
of  death  itself.  He  spoke  not  a  word.  I  pitied  him 
from  the  bottom  of  my  heart. 

"  My  friend,"  said  Dupin,  in  a  kind  tone,  "  you  are 
alarming  yourself  unnecessarily;  you  are  indeed.  We 
mean  you  no  harm  whatever.  I  pledge  you  the  honor 
of  a  gentleman,  and  of  a  Frenchman,  that  we  intend 
you  no  injury.  I  perfectly  well  know  that  you  are 
innocent  of  the  atrocities  in  the  Rue  Morgue.  It  will 
not  do,  however,  to  deny  that  you  are  in  some  measure 
implicated  in  them.  From  what  I  have  already  said, 
you  must  know  that  I  have  had  means  of  information 
about  this  matter,  means  of  which  you  could  never 
have  dreamed.  Now  the  thing  stands  thus :  You  have 
done  nothing  which  you  could  have  avoided,  nothing, 
certainly,  which  renders  you  culpable.  You  were  not 
even  guilty  of  robbery,  when  you  might  have  robbed 
with  impunity.  You  have  nothing  to  conceal.  You 
have  no  reason  for  concealment.  On  the  other  hand, 
you  are  bound  by  every  principle  of  honor  to  confess 
all  you  know.  An  innocent  man  is  now  imprisoned, 

224 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

charged  with  that  crime  of  which  you  can  point  ouf 
the  perpetrator." 

The  sailor  had  recovered  his  presence  of  mind,  in  a 
great  measure,  while  Dupin  uttered  these  words;  but 
his  original  boldness  of  bearing  was  all  gone. 

"  So  help  me  God!  "  said  he,  after  a  brief  pause,  "  I 
will  tell  you  all  I  know  about  this  affair ;  but  I  do  not 
expect  you  to  believe  one  half  I  say;  I  would  be  a 
fool  indeed  if  I  did.  Still,  I  am  innocent,  and  I  will 
make  a  clean  breast  if  I  die  for  it." 

What  he  stated  was,  in  substance,  this.  He  had 
lately  made  a  voyage  to  the  Indian  Archipelago.  A 
party,  of  which  he  formed  one,  landed  at  Borneo,  and 
passed  into  the  ulterior  on  an  excursion  of  pleasure. 
Himself  and  a  companion  had  captured  the  Ourang- 
Outang.  This  companion  dying,  the  animal  fell  into 
his  own  exclusive  possession.  After  great  trouble, 
occasioned  by  the  intractable  ferocity  of  his  captive 
during  the  home  voyage,  he  at  length  succeeded  in 
lodging  it  safely  at  his  own  residence  in  Paris,  where, 
not  to  attract  toward  himself  the  unpleasant  curiosity 
of  his  neighbors,  he  kept  it  carefully  secluded,  until 
such  a  time  as  it  should  recover  from  a  wound  in  the 
foot,  received  from  a  splinter  on  board  ship.  His  ulti 
mate  design  was  to  sell  it. 

Returning  home  from  some  sailors'  frolic  on  the 
night,  or  rather  in  the  morning,  of  the  murder,  he  found 
the  beast  occupying  his  own  bedroom,  into  which  it 

VOL.  IV. — ie  22? 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

had  broken  from  a  closet  adjoining,  where  it  had  been, 
as  was  thought,  securely  confined.  Razor  in  hand, 
and  fully  lathered,  it  was  sitting  before  a  looking- 
glass,  attempting  the  operation  of  shaving,  in  which  it 
had  no  doubt  previously  watched  its  master  through 
the  keyhole  of  the  closet.  Terrified  at  the  sight  of  so 
dangerous  a  weapon  in  the  possession  of  an  animal 
so  ferocious,  and  so  well  able  to  use  it,  the  man,  for 
some  moments,  was  at  a  loss  what  to  do.  He  had 
been  accustomed,  however,  to  quiet  the  creature,  even 
in  its  fiercest  moods,  by  the  use  of  a  whip,  and  to  this 
he  now  resorted.  Upon  sight  of  it,  the  Ourang-Outang 
sprang  at  once  through  the  door  of  the  chamber, 
down  the  stairs,  and  thence,  through  a  window,  un 
fortunately  open,  into  the  street. 

The  Frenchman  followed  in  despair;  the  ape,  razor 
still  in  hand,  occasionally  stopping  to  look  back  and 
gesticulate  at  his  pursuer,  until  the  latter  had  nearly 
come  up  with  it.  It  then  again  made  off.  In  this 
manner  the  chase  continued  for  a  long  time.  The 
streets  were  profoundly  quiet,  as  it  was  nearly  three 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  In  passing  down  an  alley  in 
the  rear  of  the  Rue  Morgue,  the  fugitive's  attention 
was  arrested  by  a  light  gleaming  from  the  open  window 
of  Madame  L'Espanaye's  chamber,  in  the  fourth  story 
of  her  house.  Rushing  to  the  building,  it  perceived 
the  lightning-rod, clambered  up  with  inconceivable  agil 
ity,  grasped  the  shutter,  which  was  thrown  fully  back 

226 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

against  the  wall,  and,  by  its  means,  swung  itself  directly 
upon  the  headboard  of  the  bed.  The  whole  feat  did 
not  occupy  a  minute.  The  shutter  was  kicked  open 
again  by  the  Ourang-Outang  as  it  entered  the  room. 

The  sailor,  in  the  meantime,  was  both  rejoiced  and 
perplexed.  He  had  strong  hopes  of  now  recapturing 
the  brute,  as  it  could  scarcely  escape  from  the  trap  into 
which  it  had  ventured,  except  by  the  rod,  where  it 
might  be  intercepted  as  it  came  down.  On  the  other 
hand,  there  was  much  cause  for  anxiety  as  to  what  it 
might  do  in  the  house.  This  latter  reflection  urged 
the  man  still  to  follow  the  fugitive.  A  lightning-rod 
is  ascended  without  difficulty,  especially  by  a  sailor; 
but  when  he  had  arrived  as  high  as  the  window, 
which  lay  far  to  his  left,  his  career  was  stopped;  th? 
most  that  he  could  accomplish  was  to  reach  over  so 
as  to  obtain  a  glimpse  of  the  interior  of  the  room.  At 
this  glimpse  he  nearly  fell  from  his  hold  through  excess 
of  horror.  Now  it  was  that  those  hideous  shrieks 
arose  upon  the  night,  which  had  startled  from  slumber 
the  inmates  of  the  Rue  Morgue.  Madame  L'Espanaye 
and  her  daughter,  habited  in  their  nightclothes,  had 
apparently  been  occupied  in  arranging  some  papers  in 
the  iron  chest  already  mentioned,  which  had  been 
wheeled  into  the  middle  of  the  room.  It  was  open, 
and  its  contents  lay  beside  it  on  the  floor.  The  vic 
tims  must  have  been  sitting  with  their  backs  toward 
the  window ;  and,  from  the  time  elapsing  between  the 

227 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

ingress  of  the  beast  and  the  screams,  it  seems  probable 
that  it  was  not  immediately  perceived.  The  flapping- 
to  of  the  shutter  would  naturally  have  been  attributed 
to  the  wind. 

As  the  sailor  looked  in,  the  gigantic  animal  had 
seized  Madame  L'Espanaye  by  the  hair  (which  was 
loose,  as  she  had  been  combing  it),  and  was  flourishing 
the  razor  about  her  face,  in  imitation  of  the  motions  of 
a  barber.  The  daughter  lay  prostrate  and  motionless ; 
she  had  swooned.  The  screams  and  struggles  of  the 
old  lady  (during  which  the  hair  was  torn  from  her 
head)  had  the  effect  of  changing  the  probably  pacific 
purposes  of  the  Ourang-Outang  into  those  of  wrath. 
With  one  determined  sweep  of  its  muscular  arm  it 
nearly  severed  her  head  from  her  body.  The  sight  of 
blood  inflamed  its  anger  into  frenzy.  Gnashing  its 
teeth,  and  flashing  fire  from  its  eyes,  it  flew  upon  the 
body  of  the  girl,  and  imbedded  its  fearful  talons  in  her 
throat,  retaining  its  grasp  until  she  expired.  Its 
wandering  and  wild  glances  fell  at  this  moment  upon 
the  head  of  the  bed,  over  which  the  face  of  its  master, 
rigid  with  horror,  was  just  discernible.  The  fury  of 
the  beast,  who  no  doubt  bore  still  in  mind  the  dreaded 
whip,  was  instantly  converted  into  fear.  Conscious  of 
having  deserved  punishment,  it  seemed  desirous  of 
concealing  its  bloody  deeds,  and  skipped  about  the 
chamber  in  an  agony  of  nervous  agitation,  throwing 
down  and  breaking  the  furniture  as  it  moved,  and 

228 


THE  MURDERS  IN  THE  RUE  MORGUE 
"  The  gigantic  animal  had  seixed  Madame  L'Esplanaye  by 
the  hair  (which  was  loose,  as  she  had  been  combing  it)." 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

dragging  the  bed  from  the  bedstead.  In  conclusion, 
it  seized  first  the  corpse  of  the  daughter,  and  thrust 
it  up  the  chimney,  as  it  was  found;  then  that  of  the 
old  lady,  which  it  immediately  hurled  through  the 
window  headlong. 

As  the  ape  approached  the  casement  with  its  muti 
lated  burden,  the  sailor  shrank  aghast  to  the  rod,  and, 
rather  gliding  than  clambering  down  it,  hurried  at 
once  home,  dreading  the  consequences  of  the  butchery, 
and  gladly  abandoning,  in  his  terror,  all  solicitude 
about  the  fate  of  the  Ourang-Outang.  The  words 
heard  by  the  party  upon  the  staircase  were  the  French 
man's  exclamations  of  horror  and  affright,  commingled 
with  the  fiendish  jabberings  of  the  brute. 

I  have  scarcely  anything  to  add.  The  Ourang- 
Outang  must  have  escaped  from  the  chamber,  by  the 
rod,  just  before  the  breaking  of  the  door.  It  must 
have  closed  the  window  as  it  passed  through  it.  It 
was  subsequently  caught  by  the  owner  himself,  who 
obtained  for  it  a  very  large  sum  at  the  Jardin  des 
Plantes.  Le  Bon  was  instantly  released,  upon  our 
narration  of  the  circumstances  (with  some  comments 
from  Dupin)  at  the  bureau  of  the  Prefect  of  Police. 
This  functionary,  however  well  disposed  to  my  friend^ 
could  not  altogether  conceal  his  chagrin  at  the  turn 
which  affairs  had  taken,  and  was  fain  to  indulge  in  a 
sarcasm  or  two  about  the  propriety  of  every  person 
minding  his  own  business. 

229 


The  Murders  in  the  Rue  Morgue 

"  Let  him  talk,"  said  Dupin,  who  had  not  thought 
it  necessary  to  reply.  "  Let  him  discourse ;  it  will 
ease  his  conscience.  I  am  satisfied  with  having  de 
feated  him  in  his  own  castle.  Nevertheless,  that  he 
failed  in  the  solution  of  this  mystery  is  by  no  means 
that  matter  for  wonder  which  he  supposes  it;  for,  in 
truth,  our  friend  the  Prefect  is  somewhat  too  cunning 
to  be  profound.  In  his  wisdom  is  no  stamen.  It  is 
all  head  and  no  body,  like  the  pictures  of  the  goddess 
Laverna;  or,  at  best,  all  head  and  shoulders,  like  a 
codfish.  But  he  is  a  good  creature  after  all.  I  like 
him  especially  for  one  master-stroke  of  cant,  by  which 
he  has  attained  his  reputation  for  ingenuity.  I  mean 
the  way  he  has  *  de  nier  ce  qui'  est,  et  d'expliquer  ce 
que  n'est  pas.J  "  * 

1  Rousseau,  Nouvffle  He!sSs& 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


The  ways  of  God  in  Nature,  as  in  Providence,  are  not  as  our 
ways ;  nor  are  the  models  that  we  frame  in  any  way  com 
mensurate  to  the  vastness,  profundity,  and  unsearchableness 
of  His  works,  which  have  a  depth  in  them  greater  than  the 
well  of  Democritus.— JOSEPH  GLAWILL. 


E  had  now  reached  the  summit  of  the  loftiest 
crag.  For  some  minutes  the  old  man 
seemed  too  much  exhausted  to  speak. 
"  Not  long  ago,"  said  he  at  length,  "  and  I  could 
have  guided  you  on  this  route  as  well  as  the  youngest 
of  my  sons;  but  about  three  years  past  there  hap 
pened  to  me  an  event  such  as  never  happened  before 
to  mortal  man,  or  at  least  such  as  no  man  ever  sur 
vived  to  tell  of,  and  the  six  hours  of  deadly  terror 
which  I  then  endured  have  broken  me  up  body  and 
soul.  You  suppose  me  a  very  old  man,  but  I  am  not. 
It  took  less  than  a  single  day  to  change  these  hairs 
from  a  jetty  black  to  white,  to  weaken  my  limbs,  and 
to  unstring  my  nerves,  so  that  I  tremble  at  the  least 
exertion,  and  am  frightened  at  a  shadow.  Do  you 

231 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


know,  I  can  scarcely  look  over  this  little  cliff  without 
getting  giddy  ?  " 

The  "  little  cliff,"  upon  whose  edge  he  had  so  care 
lessly  thrown  himself  down  to  rest  that  the  weightier 
portion  of  his  body  hung  over  it,  while  he  was  only 
kept  from  falling  by  the  tenure  of  his  elbow  on  its 
extreme  and  slippery  edge — this  "  little  cliff  "  arose, 
a  sheer  unobstructed  precipice  of  black  shining  rock, 
some  fifteen  or  sixteen  hundred  feet  from  the  world  of 
crags  beneath  us.  Nothing  would  have  tempted  me 
to  be  within  half  a  dozen  yards  of  its  brink.  In  truth, 
so  deeply  was  I  excited  by  the  perilous  position  of  my 
companion,  that  I  fell  at  full  length  upon  the  ground, 
clung  to  the  shrubs  around  me,  and  dared  not  even 
glance  upward  at  the  sky,  while  I  struggled  in  vain  to 
divest  myself  of  the  idea  that  the  very  foundations  of 
the  mountain  were  in  danger  from  the  fury  of  the  winds. 
It  was  long  before  I  could  reason  myself  into  sufficient 
courage  to  sit  up  and  look  out  into  the  distance. 

"  You  must  get  over  these  fancies,"  said  the  guide, 
"  for  I  have  brought  you  here  that  you  might  have  the 
best  possible  view  of  the  scene  of  that  event  I  men 
tioned,  and  to  tell  you  the  whole  story  with  the  spot 
just  under  your  eye." 

"  We  are  now,"  he  continued,  in  that  particularizing 
manner  which  distinguished  him — "we  are  now  close 
upon  the  Norwegian  coast,  in  the  sixty-eighth  degree 
of  latitude,  in  the  great  province  of  Nordland,  and  in 

232 


A  DESCENT  INTO  THE  MAELSTROM 

14  Now  raise  yourself  up  a  little  higher  ;  hold  on  to  the  grass 
if  you  feel  giddy — so,  and  look  out,  beyond  the  belt  of  vapor 
beneath  us,  into  the  sea." 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstr'om 


the  dreary  district  of  Lofoden.  The  mountain  upon 
whose  top  we  sit  is  Helseggen  the  Cloudy.  Now  raise 
yourself  up  a  little  higher — hold  on  to  the  grass  if  you 
feel  giddy — so,  and  look  out,  beyond  the  belt  of  vapor 
beneath  us,  into  the  sea." 

\  looked  dizzily,  and  beheld  a  wide  expanse  of  ocean, 
whose  waters  wore  so  inky  a  hue  as  to  bring  at  once  to 
my  mind  the  Nubian  geographer's  account  of  the  Mare 
Tenebrarum,  A  panorama  more  deplorably  desolate 
no  human  imagination  can  conceive.  To  the  right 
and  left,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  there  lay  out 
stretched,  like  ramparts  of  the  world,  lines  of  horridly 
black  and  beetling  cliff,  whose  character  of  gloom  was 
but  the  more  forcibly  illustrated  by  the  surf  which 
reared  high  up  against  it  its  white  and  ghastly  crest, 
howling  and  shrieking  forever.  Just  opposite  the 
promontory  upon  whose  apex  we  were  placed,  and  at  a 
distance  of  some  five  or  six  miles  out  at  sea,  there  was 
visible  a  small,  bleak-looking  island ;  or,  more  properly, 
its  position  was  discernible  through  the  wilderness  of 
surge  in  which  it  was  enveloped.  About  two  miles 
nearer  the  land  arose  another  of  smaller  size,  hide 
ously  craggy  and  barren,  and  encompassed  at  various 
intervals  by  a  cluster  of  dark  rocks. 

The  appearance  of  the  ocean,  in  the  space  between 
the  more  distant  island  and  the  shore,  had  something 
very  unusual  about  it.  Although,  at  the  time,  so 
strong  a  gale  was  blowing  landward  that  a  brig  in  the 

233 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


remote  offing  lay  to  under  a  double-reefed  trysail,  and 
constantly  plunged  her  whole  hull  out  of  sight,  still 
there  was  here  nothing  like  a  regular  swell,  but  only  a 
short,  quick,  angry  cross  dashing  of  water  in  every 
direction,  as  well  in  the  teeth  of  the  wind  as  otherwise. 
Of  foam  there  was  little  except  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  the  rocks. 

"  The  island  in  the  distance,"  resumed  the  old  man, 
"  is  called  by  the  Norwegians  Vurrgh.  The  one  mid 
way  is  Moskoe.  That  a  mile  to  the  northward  is 
Ambaaren.  Yonder  are  Iflesen,  Hoeyholm,  Kieldholm, 
Suarven,  and  Buckholm.  Farther  off,  between  Mos 
koe  and  Vurrgh,  are  Otterholm,  Flimen,  Sandflesen, 
and  Skarholm.  These  are  the  true  names  of  the 
places,  but  why  it  has  been  thought  necessary  to  name 
them  at  all  is  more  than  either  you  or  I  can  under 
stand.  Do  you  hear  anything  ?  Do  you  see  any 
change  in  the  water  ?  " 

We  had  now  been  about  ten  minutes  upon  the  top 
of  Helseggen,  to  which  we  had  ascended  from  the  in 
terior  of  Lofoden,  so  that  we  had  caught  no  glimpse 
of  the  sea  until  it  had  burst  upon  us  from  the  summit. 
As  the  old  man  spoke,  I  became  aware  of  a  loud  and 
gradually  increasing  sound,  like  the  moaning  of  a  vast 
herd  of  buffaloes  upon  an  American  prairie;  and  at 
the  same  moment  I  perceived  that  what  seamen  term 
the  "  chopping  "  character  of  the  ocean  beneath  us  was 
rapidly  changing  into  a  current  which  set  to  the  east- 

234 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


ward.  Even  while  I  gazed,  this  current  acquired  a 
monstrous  velocity.  Each  moment  added  to  its  speed, 
to  its  headlong  impetuosity.  In  five  minutes  the 
whole  sea,  as  far  as  Vurrgh,  was  lashed  into  ungovern 
able  fury;  but  it  was  between  Moskoe  and  the  coast 
that  the  main  uproar  held  its  sway.  Here  the  vast 
bed  of  the  waters,  seamed  and  scarred  into  a  thousand 
conflicting  channels,  burst  suddenly  into  frenzied 
convulsion,  heaving,  boiling,  hissing,  gyrating  in 
gigantic  and  innumerable  vortices,  and  all  whirling 
and  plunging  on  to  the  eastward  with  a  rapidity  which 
water  never  elsewhere  assumes,  except  in  precipitous 
descents. 

In  a  few  minutes  more,  there  came  over  the  scene 
another  radical  alteration.  The  general  surface  grew 
somewhat  more  smooth,  and  whirlpools,  one  by  one, 
disappeared,  while  prodigious  streaks  of  foam  became 
apparent  where  none  had  been  seen  before.  These 
streaks,  at  length,  spreading  out  to  a  great  distance, 
and  entering  into  combination,  took  unto  themselves 
the  gyratory  motion  of  the  subsided  vortices,  and 
seemed  to  form  the  germ  of  another  more  vast.  Sud 
denly — very  suddenly — this  assumed  a  distinct  and 
definite  existence,  in  a  circle  of  more  than  a  mile  in 
diameter.  The  edge  of  the  whirl  was  represented  by 
a  broad  belt  of  gleaming  spray ;  but  no  particle  of  this 
slipped  into  the  mouth  of  the  terrific  funnel,  whose 
interior,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  fathom  it,  was  a 

235 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


smooth,  shining,  and  jet-black  wall  of  water,  inclined 
to  the  horizon  at  an  angle  of  some  forty-five  degrees, 
speeding  dizzily  round  and  round  with  a  swaying  and 
sweltering  motion,  and  sending  forth  to  the  winds 
an  appalling  voice,  half  shriek,  half  roar,  such  as  not 
even  the  mighty  cataract  of  Niagara  ever  lifts  up  hi 
its  agony  to  Heaven. 

The  mountain  trembled  to  its  very  base,  and  the 
rock  rocked.  I  threw  myself  upon  my  face,  and  clung 
to  the  scant  herbage  in  an  excess  of  nervous  agitation. 

"  This,"  said  I  at  length,  to  the  old  man, — "  this  can 
be  nothing  else  than  the  great  whirlpool  of  the  Mael 
strom." 

"So  it  is  sometimes  termed,"  said  he.  "  We  Nor 
wegians  call  it  the  Moskoe-strom,  from  the  island  of 
Moskoe  in  the  midway." 

The  ordinary  account  of  this  vortex  had  by  no  means 
prepared  me  for  what  I  saw.  That  of  Jonas  Ramus, 
which  is  perhaps  the  most  circumstantial  of  any,  can 
not  impart  the  faintest  conception  either  of  the  mag 
nificence,  or  of  the  horror  of  the  scene;  or  of  the 
wild,  bewildering  sense  of  the  novel  which  confounds 
the  beholder.  I  am  not  sure  from  what  point  of  view 
the  writer  in  question  surveyed  it,  nor  at  what  time; 
but  it  could  neither  have  been  from  the  summit  of 
Helseggen,  nor  during  a  storm.  There  are  some  pas 
sages  of  his  description,  nevertheless,  which  may  be 
quoted  for  their  details,  although  their  effect  is  ex- 

236 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


ceedingly  feeble    in  conveying  an  impression  of  the 
spectacle. 

"  Between  Lofoden  and  Moskoe,"  he  says,  "  the 
depth  of  the  water  is  between  thirty-six  and  forty 
fathoms;  but  on  the  other  side,  toward  Ver  (Vurrgh), 
this  depth  decreases  so  as  not  to  afford  a  convenient 
passage  for  a  vessel  without  the  risk  of  splitting  on 
the  rocks,  which  happens  even  in  the  calmest  weather. 
When  it  is  flood,  the  stream  runs  up  the  country  be 
tween  Lofoden  and  Moskoe  with  a  boisterous  rapidity ; 
but  the  roar  of  its  impetuous  ebb  to  the  sea  is  scarce 
equalled  by  the  loudest  and  most  dreadful  cataracts; 
the  noise  being  heard  several  leagues  off,  and  the 
vortices  or  pits  are  of  such  an  extent  and  depth,  that 
if  a  ship  comes  within  its  attraction,  it  is  inevitably 
absorbed  and  carried  down  to  the  bottom,  and  there 
beat  to  pieces  against  the  rocks;  and  when  the  water 
relaxes,  the  fragments  thereof  are  thrown  up  again. 
But  these  intervals  of  tranquillity  are  only  at  the  turn 
of  the  ebb  and  flood,  and  in  calm  weather,  and  last 
but  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  its  violence  gradually  re 
turning.  When  the  stream  is  most  boisterous,  and  its 
fury  heightened  by  a  storm,  it  is  dangerous  to  come 
within  a  Norway  mile  of  it.  Boats,  yachts,  and  ships 
have  been  carried  away  by  not  guarding  against  it 
before  they  were  carried  within  its  reach.  It  likewise 
happens  frequently  that  whales  come  too  near  the 
stream,  and  are  overpowered  by  its  violence;  and 

237 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


then  it  is  impossible  to  describe  their  howlings  and 
bellowings  in  their  fruitless  struggles  to  disengage 
themselves.  A  bear  once,  attempting  to  swim  from 
Lofoden  to  Moskoe,  was  caught  by  the  stream  and 
borne  down,  while  he  roared  terribly,  so  as  to  be 
heard  on  shore.  Large  stocks  of  firs  and  pine  trees, 
after  being  absorbed  by  the  current,  rise  again  broken 
and  torn  to  such  a  degree  as  if  bristles  grew  upon  them. 
This  plainly  shows  the  bottom  to  consist  of  craggy 
rocks,  among  which  they  are  whirled  to  and  fro.  This 
stream  is  regulated  by  the  flux  and  reflux  of  the  sea, 
it  being  constantly  high  and  low  water  every  six  hours. 
In  the  year  1645,  early  in  the  morning  of  Sexagesima 
Sunday,  it  raged  with  such  noise  and  impetuosity  that 
the  very  stones  of  the  houses  on  the  coast  fell  to  the 
ground." 

In  regard  to  the  depth  of  the  water,  I  could  not  see 
how  this  could  have  been  ascertained  at  all  in  the 
immediate  vicinity  of  the  vortex.  The  "  forty  fathoms  " 
must  have  reference  only  to  portions  of  the  channel 
close  upon  the  shore  either  of  Moskoe  or  Lofoden. 
The  depth  in  the  centre  of  the  Moskoe-strb'm  must 
be  unmeasurably  greater;  and  no  better  proof  of  this 
fact  is  necessary  than  can  be  obtained  from  even  the 
sidelong  glance  into  the  abyss  of  the  whirl  which  may 
be  had  from  the  highest  crag  of  Helseggen.  Looking 
down  from  this  pinnacle  upon  the  howling  Phlegethon 
below,  I  could  not  help  smiling  at  the  simplicity  with 

238 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


the  honest  Jonas  Ramus  records,  as  a  matter 
difficult  of  belief,  the  anecdotes  of  the  whales  and  the 
bears;  for  it  appeared  to  me,  in  fact,  a  self-evident 
thing  that  the  largest  ships  of  the  line  in  existence, 
coming  within  the  influence  of  that  deadly  attraction, 
could  resist  it  as  little  as  a  feather  the  hurricane,  and 
must  disappear  bodily  and  at  once. 

The  attempts  to  account  for  the  phenomenon,  some 
of  which  I  remember,  seemed  to  me  sufficiently  plausi 
ble  in  perusal,  now  wore  a  very  different  and  unsatis 
factory  aspect.  The  idea  generally  received  is  that  this, 
as  well  as  three  smaller  vortices  among  the  Ferroe 
Islands,  "  have  no  other  cause  than  the  collision  of 
waves  rising  and  falling,  at  flux  and  reflux,  against  a 
ridge  of  rocks  and  shelves,  which  confines  the  water 
so  that  it  precipitates  itself  like  a  cataract;  and  thus 
the  higher  the  flood  rises,  the  deeper  must  the  fall  be, 
and  the  natural  result  of  all  is  a  whirlpool  or  vortex, 
the  prodigious  suction  of  which  is  sufficiently  known 
by  lesser  experiments."  These  are  the  words  of  the 
Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  Kircher  and  others  im 
agine  that  in  the  centre  of  the  channel  of  the  Maelstrom 
is  an  abyss  penetrating  the  globe,  and  issuing  hi  some 
very  remote  part,  the  Gulf  of  Bothnia  being  some« 
what  decidedly  named  in  one  instance.  This  opinion, 
idle  in  itself,  was  one  to  which,  as  I  gazed,  my  imagina 
tion  most  readily  assented ;  and,  mentioning  it  to  the 
guide,  I  was  rather  surprised  to  hear  him  say  that, 

239 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstr'dm 


although  it  was  the  view  almost  universally  entertained 
of  the  subject  by  the  Norwegians,  it  nevertheless  was 
not  his  own.  As  to  the  former  notion,  he  confessed 
his  inability  to  comprehend  it ;  and  here  I  agreed  with 
him;  for,  however  conclusive  on  paper,  it  becomes 
altogether  unintelligible,  and  even  absurd,  amid  the 
thunder  of  the  abyss. 

"  You  have  had  a  good  look  at  the  whirl  now,"  said 
the  old  man,  "and  if  you  will  creep  round  this  crag, 
so  as  to  get  in  its  lee  and  deaden  the  roar  of  the 
water,  I  will  tell  you  a  story  that  will  convince  you  I 
ought  to  know  something  of  the  Moskoe-strom." 

I  placed  myself  as  desired,  and  he  proceeded. 

"  Myself  and  my  two  brothers  once  owned  a 
schooner-rigged  smack  of  about  seventy  tons  burden, 
with  which  we  were  in  the  habit  of  fishing  among  the 
islands  beyond  Moskoe,  nearly  to  Vurrgh.  In  all  vio 
lent  eddies  at  sea  there  is  good  fishing,  at  proper 
opportunities,  if  one  has  only  the  courage  to  attempt 
it;  but  among  the  whole  of  the  Lofoden  coastmen, 
we  three  were  the  only  ones  who  made  a  regular 
business  of  going  out  to  the  islands,  as  I  tell  you.  The 
usual  grounds  are  a  great  way  lower  down  to  the 
southward.  There  fish  can  be  got  at  all  hours,  with 
out  much  risk,  and  therefore  these  places  are  pre 
ferred.  The  choice  spots  over  here  among  the  rocks, 
however,  not  only  yield  the  finest  variety,  but  in  far 
greater  abundance;  so  that  we  often  got  in  a  single 

240 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


day  what  the  more  timid  of  the  craft  could  not  scrape 
together  in  a  week.  In  fact,  we  made  it  a  matter  of 
desperate  speculation,  the  risk  of  life  standing  instead 
of  labor,  and  courage  answering  for  capital. 

"  We  kept  the  smack  in  a  cove  about  five  miles 
higher  up  the  coast  than  this ;  and  it  was  our  practice, 
in  fine  weather,  to  take  advantage  of  the  fifteen 
minutes'  slack  to  push  across  the  main  channel  of  the 
Moskoe-strb'm,  far  above  the  pool,  and  then  drop 
down  upon  anchorage  somewhere  near  Otterholm,  or 
Sandflesen,  where  the  eddies  are  not  so  violent  as 
elsewhere.  Here  we  used  to  remain  until  nearly  time 
for  slack  water  again,  when  we  weighed  and  made 
for  home.  We  never  set  out  upon  this  expedition 
without  a  steady  side  wind  for  going  and  coming  (one 
that  we  felt  sure  would  not  fail  us  before  our  return) 
and  we  seldom  made  a  miscalculation  upon  this 
point  Twice,  during  six  years,  we  were  forced  to 
stay  all  night  at  anchor  on  account  of  a  dead  calm, 
which  is  a  rare  thing  indeed  just  about  here;  and 
once  we  had  to  remain  on  the  -grounds  nearly  a  week, 
starving  to  death,  owing  to  a  gale  which  blew  up 
shortly  after  our  arrival,  and  made  the  channel  too 
boisterous  to  be  thought  of.  Upon  this  occasion  we 
should  have  been  driven  out  to  sea  in  spite  of  every= 
thing  (for  the  whirlpools  threw  us  round  and  round 
so  violently  that,  at  length,  we  fouled  our  anchor  and 
dragged  it)  if  it  had  not  been  that  we  drifted  into  one 

VOL.  IV.— 16,  241 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


of  the  innumerable  cross  currents,  here  to-day  and 
gone  to-morrow,  which  drove  us  under  the  lee  of 
Flimen,  whe,re,  by  good  luck,  we  brought  up. 

"  I  could  not  tell  you  the  twentieth  part  of  the 
difficulties  we  encountered  t  on  the  ground '  (it  is  a  bad 
spot  to  be  in,  even  in  good  weather),  but  we  made 
shift  always  to  run  the  gauntlet  of  the  Moskoe-strom 
itself  without  accident;  although  at  times  my  heart 
has  been  in  my  mouth  when  we  happened  to  be  a 
minute  or  so  behind  or  before  the  slack.  The  wind 
sometimes  was  not  as  strong  as  we  thought  it  at  start 
ing,  and  then  we  made  rather  less  way  than  we  could 
wish,  while  the  current  rendered  the  smack  unman 
ageable.  My  eldest  brother  had  a  son  eighteen  years 
oldj  and  I  had  two  stout  boys  of  my  own.  These 
would  have  been  of  great  assistance  at  such  times,  in 
using  the  sweeps  as  well  as  afterward  in  fishing;  but, 
somehow,  although  we  ran  the  risk  ourselves,  we  had 
not  the  heart  to  let  the  young  ones  get  into  the  danger ; 
for,  after  all  said  and  done,  it  was  a  horrible  danger, 
and  that  is  the  truth. 

"It  is  now  within  a  few  days  of  three  years  since 
what  I  am  going  to  tell  you  occurred.  It  was  on  the 
tenth  of  July,  18 — ,  a  day  which  the  people  of  this 
part  of  the  world  will  never  forget,  for  it  was  one  in 
which  blew  the  most  terrible  hurricane  that  ever  came 
out  of  the  heavens.  And  yet  all  the  morning^  and 
indeed  until  late  in  the  afternoon,  there  was  a  gentle 

242 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


and  steady  breeze  from  the  southwest,  while  the  sun 
shone  brightly,  so  that  the  oldest  seaman  among  us 
could  not  have  foreseen  what  was  to  follow. 

"  The  three  of  us,  my  two  brothers  and  myself,  had 
crossed  over  to  the  islands  about  two  o'clock  P.M.,  and 
soon  nearly  loaded  the  smack  with  fine  fish,  which, 
we  all  remarked,  were  more  plenty  that  day  than  we 
had  ever  known  them.  It  was  just  seven,  by  my 
watch,  when  we  weighed  and  started  for  home,  so  as  to 
make  the  worst  of  the  Strom  at  slack  water,  which  we 
knew  would  be  at  eight. 

"  We  set  out  with  a  fresh  wind  on  our  starboard 
quarter,  and  for  some  time  spanked  along  at  a  great 
rate,  never  dreaming  of  danger,  for  indeed  we  saw  not 
the  slightest  reason  to  apprehend  it.  All  at  once  we 
were  taken  aback  by  a  breeze  from  over  Helseggen. 
This  was  most  unusual — something  that  had  never 
happened  to  us  before — and  I  began  to  feel  a  little 
uneasy,  without  exactly  knowing  why.  We  put  the 
boat  on  the  wind,  but  could  make  no  headway  at  all 
for  the  eddies,  and  I  was  upon  the  point  of  proposing 
to  return  to  the  anchorage,  when,  looking  astern,  we 
saw  the  whole  horizon  covered  with  a  singular  copper- 
colored  cloud  that  rose  with  the  most  amazing  velocity. 

"  In  the  meantime  the  breeze  that  had  headed  us 
off  fell  away,  and  we  were  dead  becalmed,  drifting 
about  in  every  direction.  This  state  of  things,  how 
ever,  did  not  last  long  enough  to  give  us  time  to  think 

243 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


about  it.  In  less  than  a  minute  the  storm  was  upon 
us ;  in  less  than  two  the  sky  was  entirely  overcast ;  and, 
what  with  this  and  the  driving  spray,  it  became  sud 
denly  so  dark  that  we  could  not  see  each  other  in  the 
smack. 

"  Such  a  hurricane  as  then  blew  it  is  folly  to  at 
tempt  describing.  The  oldest  seaman  in  Norway 
never  experienced  anything  like  it.  We  had  let  our 
sails  go  by  the  run  before  it  cleverly  took  us;  but, 
at  the  first  puff,  both  our  masts  went  by  the  board  as 
if  they  had  been  sawed  off,  the  mainmast  taking  with 
it  my  youngest  brother,  who  had  lashed  himself  to 
it  for  safety. 

"  Our  boat  was  the  lightest  feather  of  a  thing  that 
ever  sat  upon  water.  It  had  a  complete  flush  deck, 
with  only  a  small  hatch  near  the  bow,  and  this  hatch 
it  had  always  been  our  custom  to  batten  down  when 
about  to  cross  the  Strom,  by  way  of  precaution  against 
the  chopping  seas.  But  for  this  circumstance  we 
should  have  foundered  at  once,  for  we  lay  entirely 
buried  for  some  moments.  How  my  elder  brother 
escaped  destruction  I  cannot  say,  for  I  never  had  an 
opportunity  of  ascertaining.  For  my  part,  as  soon 
as  I  had  let  the  foresail  run,  I  threw  myself  flat  on 
deck,  with  my  feet  against  the  narrow  gunwale  of 
the  bow,  and  with  my  hands  grasping  a  ring-bolt  near 
the  foot  of  the  foremast.  It  was  mere  instinct  that 
prompted  me  to  do  this,  which  was  undoubtedly  the 

244 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


very  best  thing  I  could  have  done,  for  I  was  too  much 
flurried  to  think. 

"  For  some  moments  we  were  completely  deluged,  as 
I  say,  and  all  this  time  I  held  my  breath  and  clung  to 
the  bolt.  When  I  could  stand  it  no  longer  I  raised  my- 
<"eJr  upon  my  Knees,  still  keeping  hold  with  my  hands, 
arid  thus  got  my  head  clear.  Presently  our  little  boat 
gave  herself  a  shake,  just  as  a  dog  does  in  coming  out 
of  the  water,  and  thus  rid  herself,  in  some  measure,  of 
the  seas.  I  was  now  trying  to  get  the  better  of  the 
stupor  that  had  come  over  me,  and  to  collect  my  senses 
so  as  to  see  what  was  to  be  done,  when  I  felt  some 
body  grasp  my  arm.  It  was  my  elder  brother,  and 
my  heart  leaped  for  joy,  for  I  had  made  sure  that  he 
was  overboard ;  but  the  next  moment  all  this  joy  was 
turned  into  horror,  for  he  put  his  mouth  close  to  my 
ear,  and  screamed  out  the  word  *  Moskoe-strom! ' 

"  No  one  ever  will  know  what  my  feelings  were  at 
that  moment.  I  shook  from  head  to  foot  as  if  I  had 
had  the  most  violent  fit  of  the  ague.  I  knew  what  he 
meant  by  that  one  word  well  enough;  I  knew  what 
he  wished  to  make  me  understand.  With  the  wind  that 
now  drove  us  on,  we  were  bound  for  the  whirl  of 
the  Strom,  and  nothing  could  save  us ! 

"  You  perceive  that  in  crossing  the  Strom  channel{ 
we  always  went  a  long  way  up  above  the  whirl,  even 
in  the  calmest  weather,  and  then  had  to  wait  and 
watch  carefully  for  the  slack,  but  now  we  were  driving 

245 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


right  upon  the  pool  itself,  and  in  such  a  hurricane  as 
this!  *  To  be  sure,'  I  thought,  *  we  shall  get  there 
just  about  the  slack,  there  is  some  little  hope  in  that,' 
but  in  the  next  moment  I  cursed  myself  for  being  so 
great  a  fool  as  to  dream  of  hope  at  all.  I  knew  very 
well  that  we  were  doomed,  had  we  been  ten  times  a 
ninety-gun  ship. 

"  By  this  time  the  first  fury  of  the  tempest  had  spent 
itself,  or  perhaps  we  did  not  feel  it  so  much,  as  we 
scudded  before  it,  but  at  all  events  the  seas,  which  at 
first  had  been  kept  down  by  the  wind,  and  lay  flat  and 
frothing,  now  got  up  into  absolute  mountains.  A 
singular  change,  too,  had  come  over  the  heavens. 
Around  in  every  direction  it  was  still  as  black  as  pitch, 
but  nearly  overhead  there  burst  out,  all  at  once,  a  cir 
cular  rift  of  clear  sky,  as  clear  as  I  ever  saw,  and  of  a 
deep  bright  blue,  and  through  it  there  blazed  forth 
the  full  moon  with  a  lustre  that  I  never  before  knew 
her  to  wear.  She  lit  up  everything  about  us  with  the 
greatest  distinctness,  but,  oh  God,  what  a  scene  it 
was  to  light  up ! 

"  I  now  made  one  or  two  attempts  to  speak  to  my 
brother,  but  in  some  manner  which  I  could  not  under 
stand  the  din  had  so  increased  that  I  could  not  make 
him  hear  a  single  word,  although  I  screamed  at  the 
top  of  my  voice  in  his  ear.  Presently  he  shook  his 
head,  looking  as  pale  as  death,  and  held  up  one  of  his 
ringers,  as  if  to  say  '  Listen ! ' 

246 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


"  At  first  I  could  not  make  out  what  he  meant ;  but 
soon  a  hideous  thought  flashed  upon  me.  I  dragged 
my  watch  from  its  fob.  It  was  not  going.  I  glanced 
at  its  face  by  the  moonlight,  and  then  burst  into  tears 
as  I  flung  it  far  away  into  the  ocean.  It  had  run  down 
at  seven  o'clock!  We  were  behind  the  time  of  the 
slack,  and  the  whirl  of  the  Strom  was  in  full  fury ! 

"  When  a  boat  is  well  built,  properly  trimmed,  and 
not  deep  laden,  the  waves  in  a  strong  gale,  when 
she  is  going  large,  seem  always  to  slip  from  beneath 
her,  which  appears  strange  to  a  landsman,  and  this 
is  what  is  called  "  riding,"  in  sea  phrase. 

"  Well,  so  far  we  had  ridden  the  swells  very  cleverly; 
but  presently  a  gigantic  sea  happened  to  take  us  right 
under  the  counter,  and  bore  us  with  it  as  it  rose,  up, 
up,  as  if  into  the  sky.  I  would  not  have  believed  that 
ajiy  wave  could  rise  so  high.  And  then  down  we 
came  with  a  sweep,  a  slide,  and  a  plunge  that  made 
me  feel  sick  and  dizzy,  as  if  I  was  falling  from  some 
lofty  mountain-top  in  a  dream.  But  while  we  were 
up  I  had  thrown  a  quick  glance  around,  and  that  one 
glance  was  all-sufficient.  I  saw  our  exact  position  in 
an  instant.  The  Moskoe-strom  whirlpool  was  about 
a  quarter  of  a  mile  dead  ahead,  but  no  more  like  the 
every-day  Moskoe-strom  than  the  whirl,  as  you  now 
see  it,  is  like  a  mill-race.  If  I  had  not  known  where 
we  were,  and  what  we  had  to  expect,  I  should  not  have 
recognized  the  place  at  all.  As  it  was,  I  involuntarily 

247 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


closed  my  eyes  in  horror.  The  lids  clenched  them 
selves  together  as  if  in  a  spasm. 

"  It  could  not  have  been  more  than  two  minutes 
afterwards  until  we  suddenly  felt  the  waves  subside 
and  were  enveloped  in  foam.  The  boat  made  a  sharp 
half  turn  to  larboard,  and  then  shot  off  in  its  new 
direction  like  a  thunderbolt.  At  the  same  moment 
the  roaring  noise  of  the  water  was  completely  drowned 
in  a  kind  of  shrill  shriek,  such  a  sound  as  you  might 
imagine  given  out  by  the  water-pipes  of  many  thousand 
steam-vessels  letting  off  their  steam  all  together.  We 
were  now  in  the  belt  of  surf  that  always  surrounds 
the  whirl ;  and  I  thought,  of  course,  that  another  mo 
ment  would  plunge  us  into  the  abyss,  down  which  we 
could  only  see  indistinctly  on  account  of  the  amazing 
velocity  with  which  we  were  borne  along.  The  boat 
did  not  seem  to  sink  into  the  water  at  all,  but  to  skim 
like  an  air-bubble  upon  the  surface  of  the  surge.  Her 
starboard  side  was  next  the  whirl,  and  on  the  larboard 
arose  the  world  of  ocean  we  had  left.  It  stood  like  a 
huge  writhing  wall  between  us  and  the  horizon. 

"  It  may  appear  strange,  but  now,  when  we  were  in 
the  very  jaws  of  the  gulf,  I  felt  more  composed  than 
when  we  were  only  approaching  it.  Having  made  up 
my  mind  to  hope  no  more,  I  got  rid  of  a  great  deal  of 
that  terror  which  unmanned  me  at  first.  I  suppose 
it  was  despair  that  strung  my  nerves. 

"  It  may  look  like  boasting,  but  what  I  tell  you  is 
248 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


cruth :  I  began  to  reflect  how  magnificent  a  thing  it  was 
to  die  in  such  a  manner,  and  how  foolish  it  was  in  me 
to  think  of  so  paltry  a  consideration  as  my  own  indi 
vidual  life,  in  view  of  so  wonderful  a  manifestation  of 
God's  power.  I  do  believe  that  I  blushed  with  shame 
when  this  idea  crossed  my  mind.  After  a  little  while 
I  became  possessed  with  the  keenest  curiosity  about 
the  whirl  itself.  I  positively  felt  a  wish  to  explore  its 
depths,  even  at  the  sacrifice  I  was  going  to  make ;  and 
my  principal  grief  was  that  I  should  never  be  able  to 
tell  my  old  companions  on  shore  about  the  mysteries 
I  should  see.  These,  no  doubt,  were  singular  fancies 
to  occupy  a  man's  mind  in  such  extremity,  and  I  have 
often  thought  since,  that  the  revolutions  of  the  boat 
around  the  pool  might  have  rendered  me  a  little  light 
headed. 

"  There  was  another  circumstance  which  tended  to 
restore  my  self-possession ;  and  this  was  the  cessation 
of  the  wind,  which  could  not  reach  us  in  our  present 
situation ;  for,  as  you  saw  for  yourself,  the  belt  of  the 
surf  is  considerably  lower  than  the  general  bed  of  the 
ocean,  and  this  latter  now  towered  above  us,  a  high 
black,  mountainous  ridge.  If  you  have  never  been 
at  sea  in  a  heavy  gale,  you  can  form  no  idea  of  the 
confusion  of  mind  occasioned  by  the  wind  and  spray 
together.  They  blind,  deafen,  and  strangle  you,  and 
take  away  all  power  of  action  or  reflection.  But  we  were 
now,  in  a  great  measure,  rid  of  these  annoyances, 

249 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


just  as  death-condemned  felons  in  prison  are  allowed 
petty  indulgences,  forbidden  them  while  their  doom  is 
yet  uncertain. 

"  How  often  we  made  the  circuit  of  the  belt  it  is 
impossible  to  say.  We  careered  round  and  round  for 
perhaps  an  hour,  flying  rather  than  floating,  getting 
gradually  more  and  more  into  the  middle  of  the  surge, 
and  then  nearer  and  nearer  to  its  horrible  inner  edge. 
All  this  time  I  had  never  let  go  of  the  ring-bolt.  My 
brother  was  at  the  stern,  holding  on  to  a  small  empty 
water-cask  which  had  been  securely  lashed  under  the 
coop  of  the  counter,  and  was  the  only  thing  on  deck 
that  had  not  been  swept  overboard  when  the  gale  first 
took  us.  As  we  approached  the  brink  of  the  pit  he 
let  go  his  hold  upon  this,  and  made  for  the  ring,  from 
which,  in  the  agony  of  his  terror,  he  endeavored  to 
force  my  hands,  as  it  was  not  large  enough  to  afford 
us  both  a  secure  grasp.  I  never  felt  deeper  grief  than 
when  I  saw  him  attempt  this  act,  although  I  knew  he 
was  a  madman  when  he  did  it,  a  raving  maniac  through 
sheer  fright.  I  did  not  care,  however,  to  contest  the 
point  with  him.  I  knew  it  could  make  no  difference 
whether  either  of  us  held  on  at  all ;  so  I  let  him  have 
the  bolt,  and  went  astern  to  the  cask.  This  there  was 
no  great  difficulty  in  doing ;  for  the  smack  flew  round 
steadily  enough,  and  upon  an  even  keel,  only  swaying 
to  and  fro  with  the  immense  sweeps  and  swelters  of 
the  whirl.  Scarcely  had  I  secured  myself  in  my  new 

250  / 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


position,  when  we  gave  a  wild  lurch  to  starboard,  and 
rushed  headlong  into  the  abyss.  I  muttered  a  hurried 
prayer  to  God,  and  thought  all  was  over. 

"  As  I  felt  the  sickening  sweep  of  the  descent,  I  had 
instinctively  tightened  my  hold  upon  the  barrel,  and 
closed  my  eyes.  For  some  seconds  I  dared  not  open 
them,  while  I  expected  instant  destruction,  and  won 
dered  that  I  was  not  already  in  my  death-struggles 
with  the  water.  But  moment  after  moment  elapsed. 
I  still  lived.  The  sense  of  falling  had  ceased;  and  the 
motion  of  the  vessel  scMiietinmuch.  as  it  had  been 
before,  while  in  the  l^fl  pfoam^lth  the  exception 
that  she  now  lay  m^JPoong.  Oook  courage  and 
looked  once  again  upon  the  scene. 

"  Never  shall  I  forget  the  sensations  of  awe,  horror, 
and  admiration  with  which  I  gazed  about  me.  The 
boat  appeared  to  be  hanging,  as  if  by  magic,  midway 
down,  upon  the  interior  surface  of  a  funnel,  vast  in 
circumference,  prodigious^!  depth,  and  whose  per 
fectly  smooth  sides  might  have,  been  mistaken  for 
ebony  but  for  the  bewildering  rapidity  with  which 
they  spun  around,  and  for  the  gleaming  and  ghastly 
radiance  they  shot  forth,  as  the  rays  of  the  full  moon, 
from  that  circular  rift  amid  the  clouds,  which  I  have 
already  described,  streamed  in  a  flood  of  golden  glory 
along  the  black  walls,  and  far  away  down  into  the 
inmost  recesses  of  the  abyss. 

"  At  first  I  was  too  much  confused  to  observe  any- 
251 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


thing  accurately.  The  general  burst  of  terrific  grand 
eur  was  all  that  I  beheld.  When  I  recovered  myself  a 
little,  however,  my  gaze  fell  instinctively  downward. 
In  this  direction  I  was  able  to  obtain  an  unobstructed 
view,  from  the  manner  in  which  the  smack  hung  on 
the  inclined  surface  of  the  pool.  She  was  quite  upon 
an  even  keel;  that  is  to  say,  her  deck  lay  in  a  plane 
parallel  with  that  of  the  water,  but  this  latter  sloped 
at  an  angle  of  more  than  forty-five  degrees,  so  that 
we  seemed  to  be  lying  upon  our  beam-ends.  I  could 
not  help  observing,  n«iertteless,  that  I  had  scarcely 
more  difficulty  in  jnaintaining  my  hold  and  footing 
in  this  situation  man  if  we^SR  been  upon  a  dead 
level;  and  this,  I  suppose,  was  owing  to  the  speed  at 
which  we  revolved. 

"  The  rays  of  the  moon  seemed  to  search  the  very 
bottom  of  the  profound  gulf;  but  still  I  could  make 
out  nothing  distinctly  on^ccount  of  a  thick  mist  hi 
which  everything  there  waf  enveloped,  and  over  which 
there  hung  a  magnificent  rainbow,  like  that  narrow 
and  tottering  bridge  which  Mussulmans  say  is  the  only 
pathway  between  Time  and  Eternity.  This  mist,  or 
spray,  was  no  doubt  occasioned  by  the  clashing  of 
the  great  walls  of  the  funnel,  as  they  all  met  together 
at  the  bottom;  but  the  yell  that  went  up  to  the 
heavens  from  out  of  that  mist  I  dare  not  attempt  to 
describe. 

"  Our  first  slide  into  the  abyss  itself,  from  the  belt 
252 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


of  foam  above,  had  carried  us  to  a  great  distance 
down  the  slope;  but  our  farther  descent  was  by  no 
means  proportionate.  Round  and  round  we  swept, 
not  with  any  uniform  movement,  but  in  dizzying 
swings  and  jerks,  that  sent  us  sometimes  only  a  few 
hundred  yards,  sometimes  nearly  the  complete  circuit 
of  the  whirl.  Our  progress  downward,  at  each  revo 
lution,  was  slow,  but  very  perceptible. 

"  Looking  about  me  upon  the  wide  waste  of  liquid 
ebony  on  which  we  were  thus  borne,  I  perceived  that 
our  boat  was  not  the  only  object  in  the  embrace  of 
the  whirl.  Both  above  and  below  us  were  visible 
fragments  of  vessels,  large  masses  of  building-timber 
and  trunks  of  trees,  with  many  smaller  articles,  such 
as  pieces  of  house  furniture,  broken  boxes,  barrels, 
and  staves.  I  have  already  described  the  unnatural 
curiosity  which  had  taken  the  place  of  my  original 
terrors.  It  appeared  to  grow  upon  me  as  I  drew 
nearer  and  nearer  to  my  dreadful  doom.  I  now  began 
to  watch,  with  a  strange  interest,  the  numerous  things 
that  floated  in  our  company.  I  must  have  been  de 
lirious,  for  I  even  sought  amusement  in  speculating 
upon  the  relative  velocities  of  their  several  descents 
toward  the  foam  below.  *  This  fir-tree,'  I  found  my 
self  at  one  time  saying,  *  will  certainly  be  the  next 
thing  that  takes  the  awful  plunge  and  disappears,' 
and  then  I  was  disappointed  to  find  that  the  wreck  of 
a  Dutch  merchant  ship  overtook  it  and  went  down 

253 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


before.  At  length,  after  making  several  guesses  of 
this  nature,  and  being  deceived  in  all,  this  fact — the 
fact  of  my  invariable  miscalculation — set  me  upon  a 
train  of  reflection  that  made  my  limbs  again  tremble, 
and  my  heart  beat  heavily  once  more. 

"  It  was  not  a  new  terror  that  thus  affected  me,  but 
the  dawn  of  a  more  exciting  hope.  This  hope  arose 
partly  from  memory,  and  partly  from  present  observa 
tion.  I  called  to  mind  the  great  variety  of  buoyant 
matter  that  strewed  the  coast  of  Lofoden,  having  been 
absorbed  and  then  thrown  forth  by  the  Moskoe-strom. 
By  far  the  greater  number  of  the  articles  were  shattered 
in  the  most  extraordinary  way,  so  chafed  and  rough 
ened  as  to  have  the  appearance  of  being  stuck  full 
of  splinters,  but  then  I  distinctly  recollected  that  there 
were  some  of  them  which  were  not  disfigured  at  all. 
Now  I  could  not  account  for  this  difference  except  by 
supposing  that  the  roughened  fragments  were  the  only 
ones  which  had  been  completely  absorbed;  that  the 
others  had  entered  the  whirl  at  so  late  a  period  of  the 
tide,  or,  from  some  reason,  had  descended  so  slowly 
after  entering,  that  they  did  not  reach  the  bottom 
before  the  turn  of  the  flood  came,  or  of  the  ebb,  as  the 
case  might  be.  I  conceived  it  possible,  in  either  in 
stance,  that  they  might  thus  be  whirled  up  again  to 
the  level  of  the  ocean,  without  undergoing  the  fate  of 
those  which  had  been  drawn  in  more  early  or  absorbed 
more  rapidly.  I  made,  also,  three  important  obser- 

254 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


vations.  The  first  was,  that,  as  a  general  rule,  the 
larger  the  bodies  were,  the  more  rapid  their  descent ;  the 
second,  that,  between  two  masses  of  equal  extent, 
the  one  spherical,  and  the  other  of  any  other  shape,  the 
superiority  in  speed  of  descent  was  with  the  sphere; 
the  third,  that,  between  two  masses  of  equal  size,  the 
one  cylindrical,  and  the  other  of  any  other  shape,  the 
cylinder  was  absorbed  the  more  slowly.  Since  my 
escape,  I  have  had  several  conversations  on  this  sub 
ject  with  an  old  schoolmaster  of  the  district;  and  it 
was  from  him  that  I  learned  the  use  of  the  words 
*  cylinder  '  and  *  sphere.*  He  explained  to  me,  although 
I  have  forgotten  the  explanation,  how  what  I  observed 
was,  in  fact,  the  natural  consequence  of  the  forms  of 
the  floating  fragments,  and  showed  me  how  it  hap 
pened  that  a  cylinder,  swimming  in  a  vortex,  offered 
more  resistence  to  its  suction,  and  was  drawn  in  with 
greater  difficulty  than  an  equally  bulky  body,  of  any 
form  whatever.1 

"  There  was  one  startling  circumstance  which  went 
a  great  way  in  enforcing  these  observations,  and 
rendering  me  anxious  to  turn  them  to  account,  and 
this  was  that,  at  every  revolution,  we  passed  some 
thing  like  a  barrel,  or  else  the  yard  or  the  mast  of  a 
vessel,  while  many  of  these  things,  which  had  been 
on  our  level  when  I  first  opened  my  eyes  upon  the 
wonders  of  the  whirlpool,  were  now  high  above  us, 

1  Sbfc  Archimedes,  De  ns  Qux  in  Humido  Vehuatur  lib.  ii 
255 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


and  seemed  to  have  moved  but  little  from  their  origi* 
nal  station. 

"  I  no  longer  hesitated  what  to  do.  I  resolved  to 
lash  myself  securely  to  the  water-cask  upon  which  I 
now  held,  to  cut  it  loose  from  the  counter,  and  to 
throw  myself  with  it  into  the  water.  I  attracted  my 
brother's  attention  by  signs,  pointed  to  the  floating 
barrels  that  came  near  us,  and  did  everything  in  my 
power  to  make  him  understand  what  I  was  about  to 
do.  I  thought  at  length  that  he  comprehended  my 
design;  but,  whether  this  was  the  case  or  not,  he 
shook  his  head  despairingly,  and  refused  to  move  from 
his  station  by  the  ring-bolt.  It  was  impossible  to 
reach  him;  the  emergency  admitted  of  no  delay;  and 
so,  with  a  bitter  struggle,  I  resigned  him  to  his  fate, 
fastened  myself  to  the  cask  by  means  of  the  lashings 
which  secured  it  to  the  counter,  and  precipitated  my 
self  with  it  into  the  sea,  without  another  moment's 
hesitation. 

"  The  result  was  precisely  what  I  had  hoped  it  might 
be.  As  it  is  myself  who  now  tell  you  this  tale,  as  you 
see  that  I  did  escape,  and  as  you  are  already  in  pos 
session  of  the  mode  in  which  this  escape  was  effected, 
and  must  therefore  anticipate  all  that  I  have  further 
to  say,  I  will  bring  my  story  quickly  to  conclusion,  it 
might  have  been  an  hour,  or  thereabout,  after  my 
quitting  the  smack,' when,  having  descended  to  a  vast 
distance  beneath  me,  it  made  three  or  four  wild 

256 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


gyrations  in  rapid  succession,  and,  bearing  my  loved 
brother  with  it,  plunged  headlong,  at  once  and  forever, 
into  the  chaos  of  foam  below.  The  barrel  to  which 
I  was  attached  sunk  very  little  farther  than  half  the 
distance  between  the  bottom  of  the  guif  and  the  spot 
at  which  I  leaped  overboard  before  a  great  change 
took  place  in  the  character  of  the  whirlpool.  The 
slope  of  the  sides  of  the  vast  funnel  became  momently 
less  and  less  steep.  The  gyrations  of  the  whirl  grew, 
gradually,  less  and  less  violent.  By  degrees,  the  froth 
and  the  rainbow  disappeared,  and  the  bottom  of  the 
gulf  seemed  slowly  to  uprise.  The  sky  was  clear,  the 
winds  had  gone  down,  and  the  full  moon  was  setting 
radiantly  in  the  west,  when  I  found  myself  on  the  sur 
face  of  the  ocean,  in  full  view  of  the  shores  of  Lofoden, 
and  above  the  spot  where  the  pool  of  the  Moskoe-strom 
had  been.  It  was  the  hour  of  the  slack,  but  the  sea 
still  heaved  in  mountainous  waves  from  the  effects  of 
the  hurricane.  I  was  borne  violently  into  the  channel 
of  the  Strom,  and  in  a  few  minutes  was  hurried  down 
xhe  coast  into  the  '  grounds  '  of  the  fishermen.  A 
boat  picked  me  up,  exhausted  from  fatigue,  and  (now 
that  the  danger  was  removed)  speechless  from  the 
memory  of  its  horror.  Those  who  drew  me  on  board 
were  my  old  mates  and  daily  companions,  but  they 
knew  me  no  more  than  they  would  have  known  a 
traveller  from  the  spirit-land.  My  hair,  which  had 
been  raven-black  the  day  before,  was  as  white  as  you 

VQL.iv.-i7. 


A  Descent  into  the  Maelstrom 


see  it  now.  They  say,  too,  that  the  whole  expression 
of  my  countenance  had  changed.  I  told  them  my 
story;  they  did  not  believe  it.  I  now  tell  it  to  you, 
and  I  can  scarcely  expect  you  to  put  more  faith  in  it 
;  than  did  the  merry  fishermen  of  Lof oden." 


258 


The  Island  of  the  Fay 


Nullus  enim  locus  sine  genio  est. — SERVIUS. 


A    musique,"    says    Marmontel,    in    those 
Contes  Moraux1  which,  in  all  our  trans- 
^^  lations,  we    have    insisted    upon   calling 

"  Moral  Tales,"  as  if  in  mockery  of  their  spirit, — 
"  la  musique  est  le  seul  des  talents  qui  joui  de  lui- 
meme;  tous  les  autres  veulent  des  temoins."  He 
here  confounds  the  pleasure  derivable  from  sweet 
sounds  with  the  capacity  for  creating  them.  No  more 
than  any  other  talent  is  that  for  music  susceptible  of 
complete  enjoyment,  where  there  is  no  second  party 
to  appreciate  its  exercise.  And  it  is  only  in  common 
with  other  talents  that  it  produces  effects  which  may 
be  fully  enjoyed  in  solitude.  The  idea  which  the 
raconteur  has  either  failed  to  entertain  clearly,  or  has 
sacrificed  in  its  expression  to  his  national  love  of 
point,  is,  doubtless,  the  very  tenable  one  that  the 


1  Moraux  is  here  derived  from  mceurs,  and  its  meaning  is  "  fashionable^ 
or,  more  strictly, <;  of  manners." 

259 


The  Island  of  the  Fay 

higher  order  of  music  is  the  most  thoroughly  esti 
mated  when  we  are  exclusively  alone.  The  propo 
sition,  in  this  form,  will  be  admitted  at  once  by  those 
who  love  the  lyre  for  its  own  sake,  and  for  its  spiritual 
uses.  But  there  is  one  pleasure  still  within  the  reach 
of  fallen  mortality,  and  perhaps  only  one,  which  owes 
even  more  than  does  music  to  the  accessory  sentiment 
of  seclusion.  I  mean  the  happiness  experienced  in 
the  contemplation  of  natural  scenery.  In  truth,  the 
man  who  would  behold  aright  the  glory  of  God  upon 
earth  must  in  solitude  behold  that  glory.  To  me,  at 
least,  the  presence,  not  of  human  life  only,  but  of  life 
in  any  other  form  than  that  of  the  green  things  which 
grow  upon  the  soil  and  are  voiceless,  is  a  stain  upon 
the  landscape,  is  at  war  with  the  genius  of  the  scene. 
I  love,  indeed,  to  regard  the  dark  valleys,  and  the  gray 
rocks,  and  the  waters  that  silently  smile,  and  the 
forests  that  sigh  in  uneasy  slumbers,  and  the  proud, 
watchful  mountains  that  look  down  upon  all;  I  love 
to  regard  these  as  themselves  but  the  colossal  members 
of  one  vast  animate  and  sentient  whole — a  whole  whose 
form  (that  of  the  sphere)  is  the  most  perfect  and  most 
inclusive  of  all ;  whose  path  is  among  associate  planets ; 
whose  meek  handmaiden  is  the  moon,  whose  mediate 
sovereign  is  the  sun;  whose  life  is  eternity;  whose 
thought  is  that  of  a  God;  whose  enjoyment  is  knowl 
edge;  whose  destinies  are  lost  in  immensity;  whose 
cognizance  of  ourselves  is  akin  with  our  own  cogni- 

260 


The  Island  of  the  Fay 

zance  of  the  ammalculae  which  infest  the  brain,  a  being 
which  we,  hi  consequence,  regard  as  purely  inani 
mate  and  material,  much  in  the  same  manner  as  these 
animalculx  must  regard  us. 

Our  telescopes,  and  our  mathematical  investigations 
assure  us  on  every  hand,  notwithstanding  the  cant  of 
the  more  ignorant  of  the  priesthood,  that  space,  and 
therefore  that  bulk,  is  an  important  consideration  hi 
the  eyes  of  the  Almighty.  The  cycles  in  which  the 
stars  move  are  those  best  adapted  for  the  evolution, 
without  collision,  of  the  greatest  possible  number  of 
bodies.  The  forms  of  those  bodies  are  accurately  such 
as,  within  a  given  surface,  to  include  the  greatest 
possible  amount  of  matter;  while  the  surfaces  them 
selves  are  so  disposed  as  to  accommodate  a  denser 
population  than  could  be  accommodated  on  the  same 
surfaces  otherwise  arranged.  Nor  is  it  any  argument 
against  bulk  being  an  object  with  God,  that  space 
itself  is  infinite ;  for  there  may  be  an  infinity  of  matter 
to  fill  it.  And  since  we  see  clearly  that  the  endow 
ment  of  matter  with  vitality  is  a  principle,  indeed,  as 
far  as  our  judgments  extend,  the  leading  principle  in 
the  operations  of  Deity,  it  is  scarcely  logical  to  imagine 
it  confined  to  the  regions  of  the  minute,  where  we 
daily  trace  it,  and  not  extending  to  those  of  the  august. 
As  we  find  cycle  within  cycle  without  end,  yet  all 
revolving  around  one  far-distant  centre  which  is 
the  Godhead,  may  we  not  analogically  suppose,  hi  the 

261 


The  Island  of  the  Fay 

same  manner,  life  within  life,  the  less  within  the 
greater,  and  all  within  the  Spirit  Divine  ?  In  short, 
we  are  madly  erring,  through  self-esteem,  in  believing 
man,  in  either  his  temporal  or  future  destinies,  to  be 
of  more  moment  in  the  universe  than  that  vast  "  clod 
of  the  valley  "  which  he  tills  and  contemns,  and  to 
which  he  denies  a  soul  for  no  more  profound  reason 
than  that  he  does  not  behold  it  in  operation.1 

These  fancies,  and  such  as  these,  have  always  given 
to  my  meditations  among  the  mountains  and  the 
forests,  by  the  rivers  and  the  ocean,  a  tinge  of  what 
the  every-day  world  would  not  fail  to  term  fantastic. 
My  wanderings  amid  such  scenes  have  been  many, 
and  far-searching,  and  often  solitary ;  and  the  interest 
with  which  I  have  strayed  through  many  a  dim,  deep 
valley,  or  gazed  into  the  reflected  heaven  of  many  a 
bright  lake,  has  been  an  interest  greatly  deepened  by 
the  thought  that  I  have  strayed  and  gazed  alone. 
What  flippant  Frenchman  2  was  it  who  said  in  allu 
sion  to  the  well-known  work  of  Zimmerman,  that 
"  la  solitude  est  une  belle  chose ;  mais  il  f aut  quelqu' 
un  pour  vous  dire  que  la  solitude  est  une  belle  chose  "  ? 
The  epigram  cannot  be  gainsaid;  but  the  necessity 
is  a  thing  that  does  not  exist. 

It  was  during  one  of  my  lonely  journeyings,  amid 
a  far-distant  region  of  mountain  locked  within  moun- 

1  Speaking  of  the  tides,  Pomponius  Mela,  in  his  treatise  DC  Situ  Orbis,  says, 
"  Either  the  world  is  a  great  animal,  or,"  etc. 

a  Balzac — in  substance.    I  do  not  remember  the  words. 

262 


The  Island  of  the  Fay 

tain,  and  sad  rivers  and  melancholy  tarns  writhing  or 
sleeping  within  all,  that  I  chanced  upon  a  certain 
rivulet  and  island.  I  came  upon  them  suddenly  in  the 
leafy  June,  and  threw  myself  upon  the  turf,  beneath 
the  branches  of  an  unknown  odorous  shrub,  that  I 
might  doze  as  I  contemplated  the  scene.  I  felt  that 
thus  only  should  I  look  upon  it,  such  was  the  character 
of  phantasm  which  it  wore. 

On  all  sides,  save  to  the  west,  where  the  sun  was 
about  sinking,  arose  the  verdant  walls  of  the  forest. 
The  little  river,  which  turned  sharply  hi  its  course 
and  was  thus  immediately  lost  to  sight,  seemed  to 
have  no  exit  from  its  prison  but  to  be  absorbed  by 
the  deep-green  foliage  of  the  trees  to  the  east;  while 
in  the  opposite  quarter  (so  it  appeared  to  me  as  I  lay 
at  length  and  glanced  upward)  there  poured  down 
noiselessly  and  continuously  into  the  valley  a  rich 
golden  and  crimson  waterfall  from  the  sunset  foun 
tains  of  the  sky. 

About  midway  hi  the  short  vista  which  my  dreamy 
vision  took  in,  one  small  circular  island,  profusely 
verdured,  reposed  upon  the  bosom  of  the  stream. 

So  blended  bank  and  shadow  there 
That  each  seemed  pendulous  in  air : 

so  mirror-like  was  the  glassy  water,  that  it  was  scarcely 
possible  to  say  at  what  point  upon  the  slope  of  the 
emerald  turf  its  crystal  dominion  began. 

263 


The  Island  of  the  Fay 

My  position  enabled  me  to  include  in  a  single  view 
both  the  eastern  and  western  extremities  of  the  islet, 
and  I  observed  a  singularly  marked  difference  in  their 
aspects.  The  latter  was  all  one  radiant  harem  of 
garden  beauties.  It  glowed  and  blushed  beneath  the 
eye  of  the  slant  sunlight,  and  fairly  laughed  with 
flowers.  The  grass  was  short,  springy,  sweet-scented, 
and  asphodel-interspersed.  The  trees  were  lithe, 
mirthful,  erect;  bright,  slender,  and  graceful;  of 
Eastern  figure  and  foliage,  with  bark  smooth,  glossy, 
and  party-colored.  There  seemed  a  deep  sense  of  life 
and  joy  about  all;  and,  although  no  airs  blew  from  out 
the  heavens,  yet  everything  had  motion  through  the 
gentle  sweepings  to  and  fro  of  innumerable  butterflies, 
that  might  have  been  mistaken  for  tulips  with  wings.1 

The  other  or  eastern  end  of  the  isle  was  whelmed  in 
the  blackest  shade.  A  sombre,  yet  beautiful  and 
peaceful  gloom  here  pervaded  all  things.  The  trees 
were  dark  in  color,  and  mournful  in  form  and  atti 
tude,  wreathing  themselves  into  sad,  solemn,  and 
spectral  shapes  that  conveyed  ideas  of  mortal  sorrow 
and  untimely  death.  The  grass  wore  the  deep  tint  of 
the  cypress,  and  the  heads  of  its  blades  hung  droop- 
ingly,  and  hither  and  thither  among  it  were  many 
small,  unsightly  hillocks,  low  and  narrow,  and  not 
very  long,  that  had  the  aspect  of  graves,  but  were  not ; 
although  over  and  all  about  them  the  rue  and  the 

1  Florem  putares  nare  per  liquidum  aethera. — P.  Commire. 
264 


THE  ISLAND  OF  THE  FAY 

"I  .  .  .  threw  myself  upon  the  turf,  beneath  the  branches 
of  an  unknown  odorous  shrub,  that  I  might  do/e  as  I  contem- 
elated  the  scene." 


The  Island  of  the  Fay 

rosemary  clambered.  The  shade  of  the  trees  fell 
heavily  upon  the  water,  and  seemed  to  bury  itself 
therein,  impregnating  the  depths  of  the  element  with 
darkness.  I  fancied  that  each  shadow,  as  the  sun 
descended  lower  and  lower,  separated  itself  sullenly 
from  the  trunk  that  gave  it  birth,  and  thus  became 
absorbed  by  the  stream;  while  other  shadows  issued 
momently  from  the  trees,  taking  the  place  of  their 
predecessors  thus  entombed. 

This  idea,  having  once  seized  upon  my  fancy,  greatly 
excited  it,  and  I  lost  myself  forthwith  in  revery.  "  If 
ever  island  were  enchanted,"  said  I  to  myself,  "  this  is 
it.  This  is  the  haunt  of  the  few  gentle  Fays  who 
remain  from  the  wreck  of  the  race.  Are  these  green 
tombs  theirs  ?  or  do  they  yield  up  their  sweet  lives 
as  mankind  yield  up  their  own  ?  In  dying,  do  they 
not  rather  waste  away  mournfully,  rendering  unto 
God,  little  by  little,  their  existence,  as  these  trees 
render  up  shadow  after  shadow,  exhausting  their  sub 
stance  unto  dissolution  ?  What  the  wasting  tree  is 
to  the  water  that  imbibes  its  shade,  growing  thus 
blacker  by  what  it  preys  upon,  may  not  the  life  of 
the  Fay  be  to  the  death  which  engulfs  it  ?  " 

As  I  thus  mused,  with  half -shut  eyes,  while  the  sun 
sank  rapidly  to  rest,  and  eddying  currents  careered 
round  and  round  the  island,  bearing  upon  their  bosom 
large,  dazzling  white  flakes  of  the  bark  of  the  syca 
more,  flakes  which,  in  their  multiform  positions  upon 

265 


The  Island  of  the  Fay 

the  water,  a  quick  imagination  might  have  converted 
into  anything  it  pleased, — while  I  thus  mused,  it  ap 
peared  to  me  that  the  form  of  one  of  those  very  Fays 
about  whom  I  had  been  pondering  made  its  way  slowly 
into  the  darkness  from  out  the  light  at  the  western 
end  of  the  island.  She  stood  erect  in  a  singularly 
fragile  canoe,  and  urged  it  with  the  mere  phantom  of 
an  oar.  While  within  the  influence  of  the  lingering 
sunbeams,  her  attitude  seemed  indicative  of  joy;  but 
sorrow  deformed  it  as  she  passed  within  the  shade. 
Slowly  she  glided  along,  and  at  length  rounded  the 
islet  and  re-entered  the  region  of  light.  "  The  revo 
lution  which  has  just  been  made  by  the  Fay,"  con 
tinued  I,  musingly,  "  is  the  cycle  of  the  brief  year  of 
her  life.  She  has  floated  through  her  winter  and 
through  her  summer.  She  is  a  year  nearer  unto 
death ;  for  I  did  not  fail  to  see  that,  as  she  came  into 
the  shade,  her  shadow  fell  from  her  and  was  swal 
lowed  up  in  the  dark  water,  making  its  blackness 
more  black." 

And  again  the  boat  appeared,  and  the  Fay;  but 
about  the  attitude  of  the  latter  there  was  more  of  care 
and  uncertainty,  and  less  of  elastic  joy.  She  floated 
again  from  out  the  light,  and  into  the  gloom  (which 
deepened  momently),  and  again  her  shadow  fell  from 
her  into  the  ebony  water,  and  became  absorbed  into  its 
blackness.  And  again  and  again  she  made  the  circuit 
of  the  island  (while  the  sun  rushed  down  to  its  slum- 

266 


The  Island  of  the  Fay 

bers),  and  at  each  issuing  into  the  light,  there  was 
more  sorrow  about  her  person,  while  it  grew  feebler, 
and  far  fainter,  and  more  indistinct;  and  at  each 
passage  into  the  gloom  there  fell  from  her  a  darker 
shade,  which  became  whelmed  in  a  shadow  more 
black.  But  at  length,  when  the  sun  had  utterly  de 
parted,  the  Fay,  now  the  mere  ghost  of  her  former  self, 
went  disconsolately  with  her  boat  into  the  region  of 
the  ebony  flood;  and  that  she  issued  thence  at  all  I 
cannot  say,  for  darkness  fell  over  all  things,  and  I 
beheld  her  magical  figure  no  more. 


267 


The  Colloquy  of  Monos  and 

Una 


ravra. — SOPHOCLES — Antigone, 
These  things  are  in  the  future. 


NA.     "  Born  again  ?  " 

Monos,     Yes,    fairest    and    best   beloved 
Una,  "  born  again."     These  were  the  words 
upon  whose  mystical  meaning  I  had  so  long  pondered, 
rejecting  the  explanations  of  the  priesthood,  until  Death 
himself  resolved  for  me  the  secret. 
Una,     Death! 

Monos,  How  strangely,  sweet  Una,  you  echo  my 
words!  I  observe,  too,  a  vacillation  in  your  step,  a 
joyous  inquietude  in  your  eyes.  You  are  confused 
and  oppressed  by  the  majestic  novelty  of  the  Life 
Eternal.  Yes,  it  was  of  Death  I  spoke.  And  here 
how  singularly  sounds  that  word  which  of  old  was 

268 


Monos  and  Una 


wont  to  bring  terror  to  all  hearts,  throwing  a  mildew 
upon  all  pleasures! 

Una,  Ah,  Death,  the  spectre  which  sate  at  all 
feasts!  How  often,  Monos,  did  we  lose  ourselves  hi 
speculations  upon  its  nature!  How  mysteriously  did 
it  act  as  a  check  to  human  bliss,  saying  unto  it,  "  Thus 
far,  and  no  farther!  "  That  earnest  mutual  love,  my 
own  Monos,  which  burned  within  our  bosoms,  how 
vainly  did  we  flatter  ourselves,  feeling  happy  in  its 
first  upspringing,  that  our  happiness  would  strengthen 
with  its  strength!  Alas!  as  it  grew,  so  grew  in  our 
hearts  the  dread  of  that  evil  hour  which  was  hurrying 
to  separate  us  forever!  Thus,  in  time,  it  became  pain 
ful  to  love.  Hate  would  have  been  mercy  then. 

Monos,  Speak  not  here  of  these  griefs,  dear  Una; 
mine,  mine  forever  now! 

Una,  But  the  memory  of  past  sorrow,  is  it  not 
present  joy  ?  I  have  much  to  say  yet  of  the  things 
which  have  been.  Above  all,  I  burn  to  know  the 
incidents  of  your  own  passage  through  the  dark  Valley 
and  Shadow. 

Monos,  And  when  did  the  radiant  Una  ask  anything 
of  her  Monos  in  vain  ?  I  will  be  minute  in  relating 
all ;  but  at  what  point  shall  the  weird  narrative  begin  ? 

Una,     At  what  point  ? 

Monos,     You  have  said. 

Una,  Monos,  I  comprehend  you.  In  death  we 
have  both  learned  the  propensity  of  man  to  define  the 

269 


Monos  and  Una 


indefinable.  I  will  not  say,  then,  commence  with  the 
moment  of  life's  cessation,  but  commence  with  that 
sad,  sad  instant  when,  the  fever  having  abandoned  you, 
you  sank  into  a  breathless  and  motionless  stupor,  and 
I  pressed  down  your  pallid  eyelids  with  the  passionate 
ringers  of  love. 

Monos,  One  word  first,  my  Una,  in  regard  to  man's 
general  condition  at  this  epoch.  You  will  remember 
that  one  or  two  of  the  wise  among  our  forefathers,  wise 
in  fact,  although  not  in  the  world's  esteem,  had 
ventured  to  doubt  the  propriety  of  the  term  "  im 
provement,"  as  applied  to  the  progress  of  our  civiliza 
tion.  There  were  periods  in  each  of  the  five  or  six 
centuries  immediately  preceding  our  dissolution,  when 
arose  some  vigorous  intellect,  boldly  contending  for 
those  principles  whose  truth  appears  now,  to  our  dis 
enfranchised  reason,  so  utterly  obvious — principles 
which  should  have  taught  our  race  to  submit  to  the 
guidance  of  the  natural  laws,  rather  than  attempt 
their  control.  At  long  intervals  some  master-minds  ap 
peared,  looking  upon  each  advance  in  practical  science 
as  a  retrogradation  in  the  true  utility.  Occasionally 
the  poetic  intellect,  that  intellect  which  we  now  feel  to 
have  been  the  most  exalted  of  all,  since  those  truths 
which  to  us  were  of  the  most  enduring  importance 
could  only  be  reached  by  that  analogy  which  speaks 
in  proof-tones  to  the  imagination  alone,  and  to  the 
unaided  reason  bears  no  weight, — occasionally  did  this 

270 


Monos  and  Una 


poetic  intellect  proceed  a  step  farther  in  the  evolving 
of  the  vague  idea  of  the  philosophic,  and  find  in  the 
mystic  parable  that  tells  of  the  tree  of  knowledge,  and 
of  its  forbidden  fruit,  death-producing,  a  distinct  inti 
mation  that  knowledge  was  not  meet  for  man  in  the 
infant  condition  of  his  soul.  And  these  men,  the  poets, 
living  and  perishing  amid  the  scorn  of  the  "  utili 
tarians  " — of  rough  pedants,  who  arrogated  to  them 
selves  a  title  which  could  have  been  properly  applied 
only  to  the  scorned, — these  men,  the  poets,  pondered 
piningly,  yet  not  unwisely,  upon  the  ancient  days 
when  our  wants  were  not  more  simple  than  our  en 
joyments  were  keen — days  when  mirth  was  a  word 
unknown,  so  solemnly  deep-toned  was  happiness; 
holy,  august,  and  blissful  days,  when  blue  rivers  ran 
undammed,  between  hills  unhewn,  into  far  forest  soli 
tudes,  primeval,  odorous,  and  unexplored. 

Yet  these  noble  exceptions  from  the  general  misrule 
served  but  to  strengthen  it  by  opposition.  Alas!  we 
had  fallen  upon  the  most  evil  of  all  our  evil  days.  The 
great  "  movement  "  (that  was  the  cant  term)  went 
on :  a  diseased  commotion,  moral  and  physical.  Art — 
the  arts — arose  supreme,  and,  once  enthroned,  cast 
chains  upon  the  intellect  which  had  elevated  them  to 
power.  Man,  because  he  could  not  but  acknowledge 
the  majesty  of  nature,  fell  into  childish  exultation  at 
his  acquired  and  still-increasing  dominion  over  her 
elements.  Even  while  he  stalked  a  god  in  his  own 

271 


Monos  and  Una 


fancy,  an  infantine  imbecility  came  over  him.  As 
might  be  supposed  from  the  origin  of  his  disorder,  he 
grew  infected  with  system,  and  with  abstraction.  He 
enwrapped  himself  in  generalities.  Among  other  odd 
ideas,  that  of  universal  equality  gained  ground;  and 
hi  the  face  of  analogy  and  of  God,  in  despite  of  the 
loud  warning  voice  of  the  laws  of  gradation  so  visibly 
pervading  all  things  in  earth  and  heaven,  wild  at 
tempts  at  an  omniprevalent  democracy  were  made. 
Yet  this  evil  sprang  necessarily  from  the  leading  evil, 
knowledge.  Man  could  not  both  know  and  succumb. 
Meantime  huge  smoking  cities  arose,  innumerable. 
Green  leaves  shrank  before  the  hot  breath  of  fur 
naces.  The  fair  face  of  nature  was  deformed  as  with 
the  ravages  of  some  loathsome  disease.  And  methinks, 
sweet  Una,  even  our  slumbering  sense  of  the  forced 
and  of  the  far-fetched  might  have  arrested  us  here. 
But  now  it  appears  that  we  had  worked  out  our  own 
destruction  in  the  perversion  of  our  taste,  or  rather 
in  the  blind  neglect  of  its  culture  in  the  schools.  For, 
in  truth,  it  was  at  this  crisis  that  taste  alone,  that 
faculty  which,  holding  a  middle  position  between  the 
pure  intellect  and  the  moral  sense,  could  never  safely 
have  been  disregarded, — it  was  now  that  taste  alone 
could  have  led  us  gently  back  to  beauty,  to  nature, 
and  to  life.  But  alas  for  the  pure  contemplative 
spirit  and  majestic  intuition  of  Plato!  Alas  for  the 
IA.OVGIKTJ  which  he  justly  regarded  as  an  all-suffi- 

272 


Monos  and  Una 


cient  education  for  the  soul!  Alas  for  him  and  for  it! 
since  both  were  most  desperately  needed  when  both 
were  most  entirely  forgotten  or  despised.1 

Pascal,  a  philosopher  whom  we  both  love,  has  said, 
how  truly!  "  que  tout  notre  raisonnement  se  reduit 
a  ceder  au  sentiment ; "  and  it  is  not  impossible  that 
the  sentiment  of  the  natural,  had  time  permitted  it, 
would  have  regained  its  old  ascendency  over  the  harsh 
mathematical  reason  of  the  schools.  But  this  thing 
was  not  to  be.  Prematurely  induced  by  intemperance 
of  knowledge,  the  old  age  of  the  world  drew  on.  This 
the  mass  of  mankind  saw  not,  or,  living  lustily  although 
unhappily,  affected  not  to  see.  But,  for  myself,  the 
earth's  records  had  taught  me  to  look  for  widest  ruin 
as  the  price  of  highest  civilization.  I  had  imbibed  a 
prescience  of  our  fate  from  comparison  of  China,  the 
simple  and  enduring,  with  Assyria,  the  architect,  with 
Egypt,  the  astrologer,  with  Nubia,  more  crafty  than 
either,  the  turbulent  mother  of  all  arts.  In  history2 

1  "  It  will  be  hard  to  discover  a  better  [method  of  education]  than  that 
which  the  experience  of  so  many  ages  has  already  discovered ;  and  this  may 
be  summed  up  as  consisting  in  gymnastics  for  the  body,  and  music  for  the 
soul." — Repub.,  lib.  ii.  "  For  this  reason  is  a  musical  education  most  essen 
tial;  since  it  causes  Rhythm  and  Harmony  to  penetrate  most  intimately  into 
the  soul,  taking  the  strongest  hold  upon  it,  filling  it  with  beauty  and  making 
the  man  beautiful-minded.  .  .  .  He  will  praise  and  admire  the  beauti 
ful;  will  receive  it  with  joy  into  his  soul,  will  feed  upon  it,  and  as^uxulate 
his  own  condition  with  it."  Ibid,,  lib.  iii.  Music  (/nov6l'Hrf)  had,  "j  owever, 
among  the  Athenians,  a  far  more  comprehensive  signification  tha;i  with  us. 
It  included  not  only  the  harmonies  of  time  and  of  tune,  but  the  poetic  diction, 
sentiment,  and  creation  each  in  its  widest  sense.  The  study  of  music  -was 
with  them,  in  fact,  the  general  cultivation  of  the  taste,  of  that  whic'h  recognizes 
the  beautiful,  in  contradistinction  from  reason,  which  deals  o-;nly  with  the 
true.  a  "  History,"  from  ioropf.lv 9  tcj  contemplate, 

VOL.  iv.— 18. 


Monos  and  Una 


of  these  regions  I  met  with  a  ray  from  the  future. 
The  individual  artificialities  of  the  three  latter  were 
local  diseases  of  the  earth,  and  in  their  individuaf 
overthrows  we  had  seen  local  remedies  applied;  but 
for  the  infected  world  at  large  I  could  anticipate  no 
regeneration  save  in  death.  That  man,  as  a  race, 
should  not  become  extinct,  I  saw  that  he  must  be 
"  born  again." 

And  now  it  was,  fairest  and  dearest,  that  we  wrapped 
our  spirits,  daily,  in  dreams.  Now  it  was  that,  in 
twilight,  we  discoursed  of  the  days  to  come,  when  the 
art-scarred  surface  of  the  earth,  having  undergone 
that  purification  l  which  alone  could  efface  its  rec 
tangular  obscenities,  should  clothe  itself  anew  in  the 
verdure  and  the  mountain-slopes  and  the  smiling 
waters  of  paradise,  and  be  rendered  at  length  a  fit 
dwelling-place  for  man:  for  man  the  death-purged; 
for  man  to  whose  now  exalted  intellect  there  should 
be  poison  in  knowledge  no  more;  for  the  redeemed, 
regenerated,  blissful,  and  now  immortal,  but  still  for 
the  material,  man. 

Una,     Well   do   I   remember  these   conversations, 

dear  Monos ;  but  the  epoch  of  the  fiery  overthrow  was 

irc,o*  c0  near  at  hand  as  we  believed,  and  as  the  cor- 

ruptio.1  n  you  indicate  did  surely  warrant  us  in  believing. 

Men  Hx-red ;  and  died  individually.     You  yourself  sick- 

1  The  worc{  „  purification  t.  seems  here  to  be  used  with  reference  to  its 
root  in  the  Gt.eek  ^^  ^ 

274 


Monos  and  Una 


ened,  and  passed  into  the  grave ;  and  thither  your  con 
stant  Una  speedily  followed  you.  And  though  the 
century  which  has  since  elapsed,  and  whose  con 
clusion  brings  us  thus  together  once  more,  tortured 
our  slumbering  senses  with  no  impatience  of  duration, 
yet,  my  Monos,  it  was  a  century  still. 

Monos.  Say,  rather,  a  point  in  the  vague  infinity. 
Unquestionably,  it  was  in  the  earth's  dotage  that  I 
died.  Wearied  at  heart  with  anxieties  which  had  their 
origin  in  the  general  turmoil  and  decay,  I  succumbed 
to  the  fierce  fever.  After  some  few  days  of  pain,  and 
many  of  dreamy  delirium  replete  with  ecstasy,  the 
manifestations  of  which  you  mistook  for  pain,  while 
I  longed  but  was  impotent  to  undeceive  you, — after 
some  days  there  came  upon  me,  as  you  have  said,  a 
breathless  and  motionless  torpor ;  and  this  was  termed 
"  death  "  by  those  who  stood  around  me. 

Words  are  vague  things.  My  condition  did  not  de 
prive  me  of  sentience.  It  appeared  to  me  not  greatly 
dissimilar  to  the  extreme  quiescence  of  him  who, 
having  slumbered  long  and  profoundly,  lying  motion 
less  and  fully  prostrate  in  a  midsummer  noon,  begins 
to  steal  slowly  back  into  consciousness,  through  the 
mere  sufficiency  of  his  sleep,  and  without  being  awak 
ened  by  external  disturbances. 

I  breathed  no  longer.  The  pulses  were  still.  The 
heart  had  ceased  to  beat.  Volition  had  not  departed, 
but  was  powerless.  The  senses  were  unusually  active, 

275 


Monos  and  Una 


although  eccentrically  so,  assuming  often  each  other's 
functions  at  random.  The  taste  and  the  smell  were 
inextricably  confounded,  and  became  one  sentiment, 
abnormal  and  intense.  The  rose-water,  with  which 
your  tenderness  had  moistened  my  lips  to  the  last, 
affected  me  with  sweet  fancies  of  flowers,  fantastic 
flowers,  far  more  lovely  than  any  of  the  old  earth, 
but  whose  prototypes  we  have  here  blooming  around 
us.  The  eyelids,  transparent  and  bloodless,  offered 
no  complete  impediment  to  vision.  As  volition  was 
in  abeyance,  the  balls  could  not  roll  in  their  sockets, 
but  all  objects  within  the  range  of  the  visual  hemi 
sphere  were  seen  with  more  or  less  distinctness;  the 
rayc  which  fell  upon  the  external  retina,  or  into  the 
corner  of  the  eye,  producing  a  more  vivid  effect  than 
those  which  struck  the  front  or  anterior  surface.  Yet, 
in  the  former  instance,  this  effect  was  so  far  anomalous 
that  I  appreciated  it  only  as  sound — sound  sweet  or 
discordant,  as  the  matters  presenting  themselves  at 
my  side  were  light  or  dark  in  shade,  curved  or  angular 
in  outline.  The  hearing  at  the  same  time,  although 
excited  in  degree,  was  not  irregular  in  action,  estima 
ting  real  sounds  with  an  extravagance  of  precision 
not  less  than  of  sensibility.  Touch  had  undergone  a 
modification  more  peculiar.  Its  impressions  were 
tardily  received,  but  pertinaciously  retained,  and  re 
sulted  always  in  the  highest  physical  pleasure.  Thus 
the  pressure  of  your  sweet  fingers  upon  my  eyelids,  at 

276 


Monos  and  Una 


first  only  recognized  through  vision,  at  length,  long 
after  their  removal,  filled  my  whole  being  with  a  sensual 
delight  immeasurable.  I  say  with  a  sensual  delight. 
All  my  perceptions  were  purely  sensual.  The  ma 
terials  furnished  the  passive  brain  by  the  senses  were 
not  hi  the  least  degree  wrought  into  shape  by  the 
deceased  understanding.  Of  pain  there  was  some 
little ;  of  pleasure  there  was  much ;  but  of  moral  pain 
or  pleasure  none  at  all.  Thus  your  wild  sobs  floated 
into  my  ear  with  all  their  mournful  cadences,  and 
were  appreciated  in  their  every  variation  of  sad  tone ; 
but  they  were  soft  musical  sounds  and  no  more ;  they 
conveyed  to  the  extinct  reason  no  intimation  of  the 
sorrows  which  gave  them  birth;  while  the  large  and 
constant  tears  which  fell  upon  my  face,  telling  the 
bystanders  of  a  heart  which  broke,  thrilled  every 
fibre  of  my  frame  with  ecstasy  alone.  And  this  was 
in  truth  the  death  of  which  these  bystanders  spoke 
reverently,  in  low  whispers ;  you,  sweet  Una,  gaspingly, 
with  loud  cries. 

They  attired  me  for  the  coffin,  three  or  four  dark 
figures  which  flitted  busily  to  and  fro.  As  these 
crossed  the  direct  line  of  my  vision  they  affected  me  as 
forms  /  but  upon  passing  to  my  side  their  images  im 
pressed  me  with  the  idea  of  shrieks,  groans,  and  other 
dismal  expressions  of  terror,  of  horror,  or  of  woe. 
You  alone,  habited  in  a  white  robe,  passed  in  all 
directions  musically  about  me. 

277 


Monos  and  Una 


The  day  waned ;  and,  as  its  light  faded  away,  I  be 
came  possessed  by  a  vague  uneasiness,  an  anxiety 
such  as  the  sleeper  feels  when  sad  real  sounds  fall  con 
tinuously  within  his  ear — low,  distant  bell-tones, 
solemn,  at  long  but  equal  intervals,  and  commingling 
with  melancholy  dreams.  Night  arrived;  and  with 
its  shadows  a  heavy  discomfort.  It  oppressed  my 
limbs  with  the  oppression  of  some  dull  weight,  and 
was  palpable.  There  was  also  a  moaning  sound,  not 
unlike  the  distant  reverberation  of  surf,  but  more  con 
tinuous,  which,  beginning  with  the  first  twilight,  had 
grown  in  strength  with  the  darkness.  Suddenly  lights 
were  brought  into  the  room,  and  this  reverberation 
became  forthwith  interrupted  into  frequent  unequal 
bursts  of  the  same  sound,  but  less  dreary  and  less  dis 
tinct.  The  ponderous  oppression  was  in  a  great 
measure  relieved ;  and,  issuing  from  the  flame  of  each 
lamp  (for  there  were  many),  there  flowed  unbrokenly 
into  my  ears  a  strain  of  melodious  monotone.  And 
when  now,  dear  Una,  approaching  the  bed  upon  which 
I  lay  outstretched,  you  sat  gently  by  my  side,  breathing 
odor  from  your  sweet  lips,  and  pressing  them  upon  my 
brow,  there  arose  tremulously  within  my  bosom,  and 
mingling  with  the  merely  physical  sensations  which 
circumstances  had  called  forth,  a  something  akin  to 
sentiment  itself,  a  feeling  that,  half  appreciating,  half 
responded  to  your  earnest  love  and  sorrow;  but  this 
feeling  took  no  root  in  the  pulseless  heart,  and  seemed 

278 


Monos  and  Una 


indeed  rather  a  shadow  than  a  reality,  and  faded 
quickly  away,  first  into  extreme  quiescence,  and  then 
into  a  purely  sensual  pleasure  as  before. 

And  now,  from  the  wreck  and  the  chaos  of  the  usual 
senses,  there  appeared  to  have  arisen  within  me  a 
sixth,  all  perfect.  In  its  exercise  I  found  a  wild  delight, 
yet  a  delight  still  physical,  inasmuch  as  the  under 
standing  had  in  it  no  part.  Motion  in  the  animal 
frame  had  fully  ceased.  No  muscle  quivered;  no 
nerve  thrilled ;  no  artery  throbbed.  But  there  seemed 
to  have  sprung  up  in  the  brain,  that  of  which  no  words 
could  convey  to  the  merely  human  intelligence  even 
an  indistinct  conception.  Let  me  term  it  a  mental 
pendulous  pulsation.  It  was  the  moral  embodiment 
of  man's  abstract  idea  of  time.  By  the  absolute 
equalization  of  this  movement,  or  of  such  as  this,  had 
the  cy°les  of  the  firmamental  orbs  themselves  been 
adjusted.  By  its  aid  I  measured  the  irregularities  of 
the  clock  upon  the  mantel,  and  of  the  watches  of  the 
attendants.  Their  tickings  came  sonorously  to  my 
ears.  The  slightest  deviation  from  the  true  propor 
tion,  and  these  deviations  were  omniprevalent,  af 
fected  me  just  as  violations  of  abstract  truth  are  wont, 
on  earth,  to  affect  the  moral  sense.  Although  no  two 
of  the  timepieces  in  the  chamber  struck  the  individual 
seconds  accurately  together,  yet  I  had  no  difficulty  in 
holding  steadily  in  mind  the  tones  and  the  respective 
momentary  errors  of  each.  And  this  —  this  keen, 

279 


Monos  and  Una 


perfect,  self-existing  sentiment  of  duration;  this  sen 
timent  existing  (as  man  could  not  possibly  have  con 
ceived  it  to  exist)  independently  of  any  succession  of 
events;  this  idea,  this  sixth  sense,  upspringing  from 
the  ashes  of  the  rest,  was  the  first  obvious  and  certain 
step  of  the  intemporal  soul  upon  the  threshold  of  the 
temporal  eternity. 

It  was  midnight;  and  you  still  sat  by  my  side.  All 
others  had  departed  from  the  chamber  of  death.  They 
had  deposited  me  in  the  coffin.  The  lamps  burned 
flickeringly;  for  this  I  knew  by  the  tremulousness  of 
the  monotonous  strains.  But  suddenly  these  strains 
diminished  in  distinctness  and  in  volume.  Finally 
they  ceased.  The  perfume  in  my  nostrils  died  away. 
Forms  affected  my  vision  no  longer.  The  oppression 
of  the  darkness  uplifted  itself  from  my  bosom.  A 
dull  shock  like  that  of  electricity  pervaded  my  frame, 
and  was  followed  by  total  loss  of  the  idea  of  con 
tact.  All  of  what  man  has  termed  sense  was  merged 
in  the  sole  consciousness  of  entity,  and  in  the  one  abid 
ing  sentiment  of  duration.  The  mortal  body  had  been 
at  length  stricken  with  the  hand  of  the  deadly  Decay. 

Yet  had  not  all  of  sentience  departed ;  for  the  con 
sciousness  and  the  sentiment  remaining  supplied  some 
of  its  functions  by  a  lethargic  intuition.  I  appreciated 
the  direful  change  now  in  operation  upon  the  flesh, 
and  as  the  dreamer  is  sometimes  aware  of  the  bodily 
presence  of  one  who  leans  over  him,  so,  sweet  Una,  I 

280 


Monos  and  Una 


still  dully  felt  that  you  sat  by  my  side.  So,  too,  when 
the  noon  of  the  second  day  came,  I  was  not  uncon 
scious  of  those  movements  which  displaced  you  from 
my  side,  which  confined  me  within  the  coffin,  which 
deposited  me  within  the  hearse,  which  bore  me  to  the 
grave,  which  lowered  me  within  it,  which  heaped 
heavily  the  mould  upon  me,  and  which  thus  left  me, 
in  blackness  and  corruption,  to  my  sad  and  solemn 
slumbers  with  the  worm. 

And  here,  in  the  prison-house  which  has  few  secrets 
to  disclose,  there  rolled  away  days  and  weeks  and 
months;  and  the  soul  watched  narrowly  each  second 
as  it  flew,  and,  without  effort,  took  record  of  its  flight 
— without  effort  and  without  object. 

A  year  passed.  The  consciousness  of  being  had 
grown  hourly  more  indistinct,  and  that  of  mere  lo 
cality  had,  in  great  measure,  usurped  its  position.  The 
idea  of  entity  was  becoming  merged  in  that  of  place. 
The  narrow  space  immediately  surrounding  what  had 
been  the  body  was  now  going  to  be  the  body  itself. 
At  length,  as  often  happens  to  the  sleeper  (by  sleep 
and  its  world  alone  is  death  imaged), — at  length,  as 
sometimes  happened  on  Earth  to  the  deep  slumberer, 
when  some  flitting  light  half  startled  him  into  awak 
ing,  yet  left  him  half  enveloped  in  dreams,  so  to  me, 
in  the  strict  embrace  of  the  Shadow,  came  that  light 
which  alone  might  have  had  power  to  startle,  the 
light  of  enduring  love.  Men  toiled  at  the  grave  in 

281 


Monos  and  Una 


which  I  lay  darkling.  They  upthrew  the  damp  earth. 
Upon  my  mouldering  bones  there  descended  the  coffin 
of  Una. 

And  now  again  all  was  void.  That  nebulous  light 
had  been  extinguished.  That  feeble  thrill  had  vibrated 
itself  into  quiescence.  Many  lustra  had  supervened. 
Dust  had  returned  to  dust.  The  worm  had  food  no 
more.  The  sense  of  being  had  at  length  utterly  de 
parted,  and  there  reigned  in  its  stead,  instead  of  all 
things,  dominant  and  perpetual,  the  autocrats  Place 
and  Time.  For  that  which  was  not;  for  that  which 
had  no  form ;  for  that  which  had  no  thought ;  for  that 
which  had  no  sentience ;  for  that  which  was  soulless, 
yet  of  which  matter  formed  no  portion, — for  all  this 
nothingness,  yet  for  all  this  immortality,  the  grave 
was  still  a  home,  and  the  corrosive  hours,  co-mates. 


282 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your 
Head 


A  TALE  WITH  A  MORAL 

ON  tal  que  las  costumbres  de  un  autor," 
says  Don  Tomas  De  Las  Torres,  in  the 
preface  to  his  Amatory  Poems,  "  scan 
puras  y  castas,  importa  muy  poco  que  no  scan  igual- 
mente  severas  sus  obras,"  meaning,  in  plain  English, 
that,  provided  the  morals  of  an  author  are  pure,  per 
sonally,  it  signifies  nothing  what  are  the  morals  of  his 
books.  We  presume  that  Don  Tomas  is  now  in 
Purgatory  for  the  assertion.  It  would  be  a  clever 
thing,  too,  in  the  way  of  poetical  justice,  to  keep  him 
there  until  his  Amatory  Poems  get  out  of  print,  or  are 
laid  definitely  upon  the  shelf  through  lack  of  readers. 
Every  fiction  should  have  a  moral ;  and,  what  is  more 
to  the  purpose,  the  critics  have  discovered  that  every 

283 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 

fiction  has.  Philip  Melancthon,  some  time  ago,  wrote 
a  commentary  upon  the  Batrachomyomachia,  and 
proved  that  the  poet's  object  was  to  excite  a  distaste 
for  sedition.  Pierre  La  Seine,  going  a  step  farther, 
shows  that  the  intention  was  to  recommend  to  young 
men  temperance  in  eating  and  drinking.  Just  so,  too, 
Jacobus  Hugo  has  satisfied  himself  that  by  Evenius, 
Homer  meant  to  insinuate  John  Calvin ;  by  Antinous, 
Martin  Luther;  by  the  Lotophagi,  Protestants  in  gen 
eral;  and,  by  the  Harpies,  the  Dutch.  Our  more 
modern  Scholiasts  are  equally  acute.  These  fellows 
demonstrate  a  hidden  meaning  in  The  Antedjlu' 
vianst  a  parable  in  Powhatan,  new  views  in  Cock 
Robin,  and  transcendentalism  in  Hop  O'  My  Thumb, 
In  short,  it  has  been  shown  that  no  man  can  sit  down 
to  write  without  a  very  profound  design.  Thus  to 
authors  in  general  much  trouble  is  spared.  A  novelist, 
for  example,  need  have  no  care  of  his  moral.  It  is 
there, — that  is  to  say,  it  is  somewhere, — and  the  moral 
and  the  critics  can  take  care  of  themselves.  When 
the  proper  time  arrives,  all  that  the  gentleman  in 
tended,  and  all  that  he  did  not  intend,  will  be  brought 
to  light  in  the  Dial  or  the  Dowti'Easter,  together 
with  all  that  he  ought  to  have  intended,  and  the  rest 
that  he  clearly  meant  to  intend;  so  that  it  will  all 
come  very  straight  in  the  end. 

There  is  no  just  ground,  therefore,  for  the  charge 
brought  against  me  by  certain  ignoramuses:  that  I 

284 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 


have  never  written  a  moral  tale,  or,  in  more  precise 
words,  a  tale  with  a  moral.  They  are  not  the  critics 
predestined  to  bring  me  out,  and  develop  my  morals: 
that  is  the  secret.  By  and  by  the  North  American 
Quarterly  Humdrum  will  make  them  ashamed  of  their 
stupidity.  In  the  meantime,  by  way  of  staying  exe 
cution,  by  way  of  mitigating  the  accusations  against 
me,  I  offer  the  sad  history  appended,  a  history  about 
whose  obvious  moral  there  can  be  no  question  what 
ever,  since  he  who  runs  may  read  it  in  the  large 
type  which  forms  the  title  of  the  tale.  I  should 
have  credit  for  this  arrangement,  a  far  wiser  one  than 
that  of  La  Fontaine  and  others,  who  reserve  the  im 
pression  to  be  conveyed  until  the  last  moment,  and 
thus  sneak  it  in  at  the  fag-end  of  their  fables. 

Defunct!  injuria  ne  afficiantur  was  a  law  of  the 
twelve  tables,  and  De  mortuis  nil  nisi  bonum  is  an 
excellent  injunction,  even  if  the  dead  in  question  be 
nothing  but  dead  small  beer.  It  is  not  my  design, 
therefore,  to  vituperate  my  deceased  friend,  Toby 
Dammit.  He  was  a  sad  dog,  it  is  true,  and  a  dog's 
death  it  was  that  he  died ;  but  he  himself  was  not  to 
blame  for  his  vices.  They  grew  out  of  a  personal 
defect  in  his  mother.  She  did  her  best  in  the  way 
of  flogging  him  while  an  infant;  for  duties,  to  her 
well-regulated  mind,  were  always  pleasures,  and 
babies,  like  tough  steaks,  or  the  modern  Greek  olive 
trees,  are  invariably  the  better  for  beating ;  but,  poor 

285 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 


woman!  she  had  the  misfortune  to  be  left-handed, 
and  a  child  flogged  left-handedly  had  better  be  left 
unflogged.  The  world  revolves  from  right  to  left.  It 
will  not  do  to  whip  a  baby  from  left  to  right.  If  each 
blow  in  the  proper  direction  drives  an  evil  propensity 
out,  it  follows  that  every  thump  in  an  opposite  one 
knocks  its  quota  of  wickedness  in.  I  was  often  present 
at  Toby's  chastisements,  and  even  by  the  way  in  which 
he  kicked  I  could  perceive  that  he  was  getting  worse 
and  worse  every  day.  At  last  I  saw,  through  the  tears 
in  my  eyes,  that  there  was  no  hope  of  the  villain  at 
all;  and  one  day  when  he  had  been  cuffed  until  he 
grew  so  black  in  the  face  that  one  might  have  mistaken 
him  for  a  little  African,  and  no  effect  had  been  pro 
duced  beyond  that  of  making  him  wriggle  himself  into 
a  fit,  I  could  stand  it  no  longer,  but  went  down  upon 
my  knees  forthwith,  and,  uplifting  my  voice,  made 
prophecy  of  his  ruin. 

The  fact  is  that  his  precocity  hi  vice  was  awful.  At 
five  months  of  age  he  used  to  get  into  such  passions 
that  he  was  unable  to  articulate.  At  six  months,  I 
caught  him  gnawing  a  pack  of  cards.  At  seven 
months  he  was  in  the  constant  habit  of  catching  and 
kissing  the  female  babies.  At  eight  months  he  per 
emptorily  refused  to  put  his  signature  to  the  temper 
ance  pledge.  Thus  he  went  on  increasing  in  iniquity, 
month  after  month,  until,  at  the  close  of  the  first  year, 
he  not  only  insisted  upon  wearing  moustaches,  but 

286 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 

had  contracted  a  propensity  for  cursing  and  swearing, 
and  for  backing  his  assertions  by  bets. 

Through  this  latter  most  ungentlemanly  practice 
the  ruin  which  I  had  predicted  to  Toby  Dammit 
overtook  him  at  last.  The  fashion  had  "  grown  with 
his  growth  and  strengthened  with  his  strength,"  so 
that,  when  he  came  to  be  a  man,  he  could  scarcely 
utter  a  sentence  without  interlarding  it  with  a  propo 
sition  to  gamble.  Not  that  he  actually  laid  wagers — 
no!  I  will  do  my  friend  the  justice  to  say  that  he 
would  as  soon  have  laid  eggs.  With  him  the  thing 
was  a  mere  formula,  nothing  more.  His  expressions  on 
this  head  had  no  meaning  attached  to  them  whatever. 
They  were  simple  if  not  altogether  innocent  expletives, 
imaginative  phrases  wherewith  to  round  off  a  sentence. 
When  he  said,  "  I  '11  bet  you  so  and  so,"  nobody  ever 
thought  of  taking  him  up;  but  still  I  could  not  help 
thinking  it  my  duty  to  put  him  down.  The  habit  was 
an  immoral  one,  and  so  I  told  him.  It  was  a  vulgar 
one;  this  I  begged  him  to  believe.  It  was  discoun 
tenanced  by  society ;  here  I  said  nothing  but  the  truth. 
It  was  forbidden  by  act  of  Congress;  here  I  had  not 
the  slightest  intention  of  telling  a  lie.  I  remonstrated, 
but  to  no  purpose.  I  demonstrated — in  vain.  I  en 
treated;  he  smiled.  I  implored;  he  laughed.  I 
preached;  he  sneered.  I  threatened;  he  swore.  I 
kicked  him;  he  called  for  the  police.  I  pulled  his 
nose ;  he  blew  it,  and  offered  to  bet  the  Devil  his  head 

287 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 


that  I  would  not  venture  to  try  that  experiment 
again. 

Poverty  was  another  vice  which  the  peculiar  physical 
deficiency  of  Dammit's  mother  had  entailed  upon  her 
son.  He  was  detestably  poor ;  and  this  was  the  reason, 
no  doubt,  that  his  expletive  expressions  about  betting 
seldom  took  a  pecuniary  turn.  I  will  not  be  bound 
to  say  that  I  ever  heard  him  make  use  of  such  a  figure 
of  speech  as  "  I  '11  bet  you  a  dollar."  It  was  usually, 
"  I  '11  bet  you  what  you  please,"  or  "  I  '11  bet  you  what 
you  dare,"  or  "  I  '11  bet  you  a  trifle,"  or  else,  more 
significantly  still,  "  I  '11  bet  the  Devil  my  head." 

This  latter  form  seemed  to  please  him  best,  perhaps 
because  it  involved  the  least  risk;  for  Dammit  had 
become  excessively  parsimonious.  Had  any  one 
taken  him  up,  his  head  was  small,  and  thus  his  loss 
would  have  been  small  too.  But  these  are  my  own  re 
flections,  and  I  am  by  no  means  sure  that  I  am  right 
in  attributing  them  to  him.  At  all  events  the  phrase 
in  question  grew  daily  in  favor,  notwithstanding  the 
gross  impropriety  of  a  man  betting  his  brains  like 
bank-notes;  but  this  was  a  point  which  my  friend's 
perversity  of  disposition  would  not  permit  him  to 
comprehend.  In  the  end,  he  abandoned  all  other 
forms  of  wager,  and  gave  himself  up  to  "  I  '11  bet  the 
Devil  my  head,"  with  a  pertinacity  and  exclusiveness 
of  devotion  that  displeased  not  less  than  it  surprised 
me.  I  am  always  displeased  by  circumstances  for 

288 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 


which  I  cannot  account.  Mysteries  force  a  man  to 
think,  and  so  injure  his  health.  The  truth  is,  there 
was  something  in  the  air  with  which  Mr.  Dammit  was 
wont  to  give  utterance  to  his  offensive  expression, 
something  in  his  manner  of  enunciation,  which  at  first 
interested,  and  afterward  made  me  very  uneasy; 
something  which,  for  want  of  a  more  definite  term  at 
present,  I  must  be  permitted  to  call  queer  ;  but  which 
Mr.  Coleridge  would  have  called  mystical,  Mr.  Kant 
pantheistical,  Mr.  Carlyle  twistical,  and  Mr.  Emerson 
hyperquizzitistical.  I  began  not  to  like  it  at  all.  Mr. 
Dammit's  soul  was  in  a  perilous  state.  I  resolved  to 
bring  all  my  eloquence  into  play  to  save  it.  I  vowed 
to  serve  him  as  St.  Patrick,  in  the  Irish  chronicle,  is 
said  to  have  served  the  toad,  that  is  to  say,  "  awaken 
him  to  a  sense  of  his  situation."  I  addressed  myself 
to  the  task  forthwith.  Once  more  I  betook  myself  to 
remonstrance.  Again  I  collected  my  energies  for  a 
final  attempt  at  expostulation. 

When  I  had  made  an  end  of  my  lecture,  Mr.  Dammit 
indulged  himself  in  some  very  equivocal  behavior.  For 
some  moments  he  remained  silent,  merely  looking  me 
inquisitively  in  the  face.  But  presently  he  threw  his 
head  to  one  side,  and  elevated  his  eyebrows  to  a  great 
extent.  Then  he  spread  out  the  palms  of  his  hands 
and  shrugged  up  his  shoulders.  Then  he  winked  with 
the  right  eye.  Then  he  repeated  the  operation  with 
the  left.  Then  he  shut  them  both  up  very  tight.  Then 


VOL.  iv.—  TO. 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 


he  opened  them  both  so  very  wide  that  I  became 
seriously  alarmed  for  the  consequences.  Then,  ap 
plying  his  thumb  to  his  nose,  he  thought  proper  to 
make  an  indescribable  movement  with  the  rest  of  his 
fingers.  Finally,  setting  his  arms  akimbo,  he  con 
descended  to  reply. 

I  can  call  to  mind  only  the  heads  of  his  discourse : 
He  would  be  obliged  to  me  if  I  would  hold  my  tongue. 
He  wished  none  of  my  advice.  He  despised  all  my 
insinuations.  He  was  old  enough  to  take  care  of 
himself.  Did  I  still  think  him  baby  Dammit  ?  Did  I 
mean  to  say  anything  against  his  character  ?  Did  I 
intend  to  insult  him  ?  Was  I  a  fool  ?  Was  my  ma 
ternal  parent  aware,  in  a  word,  of  my  absence  from  the 
domiciliary  residence  ?  He  would  put  this  latter 
question  to  me  as  to  a  man  of  veracity,  and  he  would 
bind  himself  to  abide  by  my  reply.  Once  more  he 
would  demand  explicitly  if  my  mother  knew  that  I 
was  out.  My  confusion,  he  said,  betrayed  me,  and 
he  would  be  willing  to  bet  the  Devil  his  head  that  she 
did  not. 

Mr.  Dammit  did  not  pause  for  my  rejoinder.  Turn 
ing  upon  his  heel,  he  left  my  presence  with  undignified 
precipitation.  It  was  well  for  him  that  he  did  so. 
My  feelings  had  been  wounded.  Even  my  anger  had 
been  aroused.  For  once  I  would  have  taken  him  up 
upon  his  insulting  wager.  I  would  have  won  for  the 
Arch-Enemy  Mr.  Dammit's  little  head;  for  the  fact 

290 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 


is,  my  mamma  was  very  well  aware  of  my  merely 
temporary  absence  from  home. 

But  Khoda  she/a  midehed  (Heaven  gives  relief),  as 
the  Mussulmans  say  when  you  tread  upon  their  toes. 
It  was  in  pursuance  of  my  duty  that  I  had  been  in 
sulted,  and  I  bore  the  insult  like  a  man.  It  now 
seemed  to  me,  however,  that  I  had  done  all  that  could 
be  required  of  me  in  the  case  of  this  miserable  indi 
vidual,  and  I  resolved  to  trouble  him  no  longer  with 
my  counsel,  but  to  leave  him  to  his  conscience  and 
himself.  But  although  I  forebore  to  intrude  with  my 
advice,  I  could  not  bring  myself  to  give  up  his  society 
altogether.  I  even  went  so  far  as  to  humor  some  of 
his  less  reprehensible  propensities;  and  there  were 
times  when  I  found  myself  lauding  his  wicked  jokes, 
as  epicures  do  mustard,  with  tears  in  my  eyes;  so 
profoundly  did  it  grieve  me  to  hear  his  evil  talk. 

One  fine  day,  having  strolled  out  together,  arm  in 
arm,  our  route  led  us  in  the  direction  of  a  river. 
There  was  a  bridge,  and  we  resolved  to  cross  it.  It 
was  roofed  over,  by  way  of  protection  from  the 
weather,  and  the  archway,  having  but  few  windows, 
was  thus  very  uncomfortably  dark.  As  we  entered 
the  passage,  the  contrast  between  the  external  glare 
and  the  ulterior  gloom  struck  heavily  upon  my  spirits. 
Not  so  upon  those  of  the  unhappy  Dammit,  who  offered 
to  bet  the  Devil  his  head  that  I  was  hipped.  He  seemed 
*o  be  in  an  unusual  good  humor.  He  was  excessively 

291 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 

lively ;  so  much  so  that  I  entertained  I  know  not  what 
of  uneasy  suspicion.  It  is  not  impossible  that  he  was 
affected  with  the  transcendentals.  I  am  not  well 
enough  versed,  however,  in  the  diagnosis  of  this 
disease  to  speak  with  decision  upon  the  point;  and 
unhappily  there  were  none  of  my  friends  of  the  Dial 
present.  I  suggest  the  idea,  nevertheless,  because  of 
a  certain  species  of  austere  Merry-Andrewism  which 
seemed  to  beset  my  poor  friend,  and  caused  him  to 
make  quite  a  tomfool  of  himself.  Nothing  would 
serve  him  but  wriggling  and  skipping  about  under  and 
over  everything  that  came  in  his  way;  now  shouting 
out,  and  now  lisping  out,  all  manner  of  odd  little  and 
big  words,  yet  preserving  the  gravest  face  in  the  world 
all  the  time.  I  really  could  not  make  up  my  mind 
whether  to  kick  or  to  pity  him.  At  length,  having 
passed  nearly  across  the  bridge,  we  approached  the 
termination  of  the  footway,  when  our  progress  was 
impeded  by  a  turnstile  of  some  height.  Through  this 
I  made  my  way  quietly,  pushing  it  around  as  usual. 
But  this  turn  would  not  serve  the  turn  of  Mr.  Dammit. 
He  insisted  upon  leaping  the  stile,  and  said  he  could 
cut  a  pigeon-wing  over  it  in  the  air.  Now  this,  con 
scientiously  speaking,  I  did  not  think  he  could  do0 
The  best  pigeon-winger  over  all  kinds  of  style  was 
my  friend  Mr.  Carlyle,  and  as  I  knew  he  could  not  do 
it,  I  would  not  believe  that  it  could  be  done  by  Toby 
Dammit.  I  therefore  told  him,  in  so  many  words, 

292 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 


that  he  was  a  braggadocio,  and  could  not  do  what  he 
said.  For  this  I  had  reason  to  be  sorry  afterwards; 
for  he  straightway  offered  to  bet  the  Devil  his  head 
that  he  could. 

I  was  about  to  reply,  notwithstanding  my  previous 
resolutions,  with  some  remonstrance  against  his  im 
piety,  when  I  heard,  close  at  my  elbow,  a  slight  cough, 
which  sounded  very  much  like  the  ejaculation 
"  ahem!  "  I  started,  and  looked  about  me  in  surprise. 
My  glance  at  length  fell  into  a  nook  of  the  framework 
of  the  bridge,  and  upon  the  figure  of  a  little  lame  old 
gentleman  of  venerable  aspect.  Nothing  could  be 
more  reverend  than  his  whole  appearance ;  for  he  not 
only  had  on  a  full  suit  of  black,  but  his  shirt  was 
perfectly  clean  and  the  collar  turned  very  neatly  down 
over  a  white  cravat,  while  his  hair  was  parted  in  front 
like  a  girl's.  His  hands  were  clasped  pensively  to 
gether  over  his  stomach,  and  his  two  eyes  were  care 
fully  rolled  up  into  the  top  of  his  head. 

Upon  observing  him  more  closely,  I  perceived  that 
he  wore  a  black  silk  apron  over  his  small-clothes ;  and 
this  was  a  thing  which  I  thought  very  odd.  Before  I 
had  time  to  make  any  remark,  however,  upon  so 
singular  a  circumstance,  he  interrupted  me  with  a 
second  "  ahem!  " 

To  this  observation  I  was  not  immediately  prepared 
to  reply.  The  fact  is,  remarks  of  this  laconic  nature 
are  nearly  unanswerable.  I  have  known  a  Quarterly 

293 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 

Review  nonplussed  by  the  word  "Fudge!"  I  am 
not  ashamed  to  say,  therefore,  that  I  turned  to  Mr. 
Dammit  for  assistance. 

"  Dammit,"  said  I,  "  what  are  you  about  ?  don't 
you  hear  ?  the  gentleman  says  *  Ahem! '  "  I  looked 
sternly  at  my  friend  while  I  thus  addressed  him;  for, 
to  say  the  truth,  I  felt  particularly  puzzled ;  and  when 
a  man  is  particularly  puzzled  he  must  knit  his  brows 
and  look  savage,  or  else  he  is  pretty  sure  to  look  like  a 
fool. 

"  Dammit,"  observed  I,  although  this  sounded  very 
much  like  an  oath,  than  which  nothing  was  farther 
from  my  thoughts, — "  Dammit,"  I  suggested,  "  the 
gentleman  says  '  Ahem! '  " 

I  do  not  attempt  to  defend  my  remark  on  the  score 
of  profundity ;  I  did  not  think  it  profound  myself ;  but 
I  have  noticed  that  the  effect  of  our  speeches  is  not 
always  proportionate  with  their  importance  in  our 
own  eyes;  and  if  I  had  shot  Mr.  D.  through  and 
through  with  a  Paixhan  bomb,  or  knocked  him  on  the 
head  with  the  Poets  and  Poetry  of  America,  he  could 
hardly  have  been  more  discomfited  than  when  I  ad 
dressed  him  with  those  simple  words :  "  Dammit 
what  are  you  about  ?  don't  you  hear  ?  the  gentlemar 
says  <  Ahem!'" 

"  You  don't  say  so  ?  "  gasped  he  at  length,  aftei 
turning  more  colors  than  a  pirate  runs  up,  one  aftei 
the  other,  when  chased  by  a  man-of-war.  "  Are  yoi 

294 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 


quite  sure  he  said  that  ?  Well,  at  all  events  I  am  in 
for  it  now,  and  may  as  well  put  a  bold  face  upon  the 
matter.  Here  goes,  then — ahem!  " 

At  this  the  little  old  gentleman  seemed  pleased,  God 
only  knows  why.  He  left  his  station  at  the  nook  of 
the  bridge,  limped  forward  with  a  gracious  air,  took 
Dammit  by  the  hand  and  shook  it  cordially,  looking 
all  the  while  straight  up  hi  his  face  with  an  air  of  the 
most  unadulterated  benignity  which  it  is  possible  for 
the  mind  of  man  to  imagine. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  you  will  win  it,  Dammit,"  said  he, 
with  the  frankest  of  all  smiles,  "  but  we  are  obliged 
to  have  a  trial,  you  know,  for  the  sake  of  mere 
form." 

"  Ahem!  "  replied  my  friend,  taking  off  his  coat, 
with  a  deep  sigh,  tying  a  pocket-handkerchief  around 
his  waist,  and  producing  an  unaccountable  alteration 
in  his  countenance  by  twisting  up  his  eyes  and  bring 
ing  down  the  corners  of  his  mouth, — "  ahem!  "  And 
"ahem!"  said  he  again,  after  a  pause;  and  not 
another  word  more  than  "  ahem!  "  did  I  ever  know 
him  to  say  after  that.  "  Aha!  "  thought  I,  without 
expressing  myself  aloud,  "  this  is  quite  a  remarkable 
silence  on  the  part  of  Toby  Dammit,  and  is  no  doubt  a 
consequence  of  his  verbosity  upon  a  previous  occasion. 
'One  extreme  induces  another.  I  wonder  if  he  has  for 
gotten  the  many  unanswerable  questions  which  he 
propounded  to  me  so  fluently  on  the  day  when  I  gave 

295 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 


him  my  last  lecture  ?  At  all  events,  he  is  cured  of 
the  transcendentals." 

"  Ahem!  "  here  replied  Toby,  just  as  if  he  had  been 
reading  my  thoughts,  and  looking  like  a  very  old  sheep 
in  a  revery. 

The  old  gentleman  now  took  him  by  the  arm,  and 
led  him  more  into  the  shade  of  the  bridge,  a  few  paces 
back  from  the  turnstile.  "  My  good  fellow,"  said  he, 
"  I  make  it  a  point  of  conscience  to  allow  you  this 
much  run.  Wait  here,  till  I  take  my  place  by  the  stile, 
so  that  I  may  see  whether  you  go  over  it  handsomely 
and  transcendentally,  and  don't  omit  any  flourishes  of 
the  pigeon-wing.  A  mere  form,  you  know.  I  will 
say  *  One,  two,  three,  and  away.'  Mind  you  start  at 
the  word  *  away.'  "  Here  he  took  his  position  by  the 
stile,  paused  a  moment  as  if  in  profound  reflection, 
then  looked  up  and,  I  thought,  smiled  very  slightly, 
then  tightened  the  strings  of  his  apron,  then  took  a 
long  look  at  Dammit,  and  finally  gave  the  word  as 
agreed  upon : 

One — two — three — and — away  / 

Punctually  at  the  word  "  away,"  my  poor  friend 
set  off  in  a  strong  gallop.  The  stile  was  not  very 
high,  like  Mr.  Lord's,  nor  yet  very  low,  like  that 
of  Mr.  Lord's  reviewers,  but  upon  the  whole  I 
made  sure  that  he  would  clear  it.  And  then  what  if 
he  did  not  ?  ah,  that  was  the  question,  what  if  he  did 

296 


NEVER  BET  THE  DEVIL  YOUR  HEAD 
"  I  saw  him   high  in  the  air,  pigeon- winging  it  to  admira 
tion,  just  over  the  top  of  the  stile." 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 

not  ?  "  What  right,"  said  I,  "  had  the  old  gentleman 
to  make  any  other  gentleman  jump  ?  The  little  old 
dot-and-carry-one !  who  is  he  ?  If  he  asks  me  to 
jump,  I  won't  do  it,  that 's  flat,  and  I  don't  care  who 
the  devil  he  is."  The  bridge,  as  I  say,  was  arched 
and  covered  in,  in  a  very  ridiculous  manner,  and  there 
was  a  most  uncomfortable  echo  about  it  at  all  times, 
an  echo  which  I  never  before  so  particularly  observed 
as  when  I  uttered  the  four  last  words  of  my  remark. 

But  what  I  said,  or  what  I  thought,  or  what  I  heard, 
occupied  only  an  instant.  In  less  than  five  seconds 
from  his  starting,  my  poor  Toby  had  taken  the  leap. 
I  saw  him  run  nimbly,  and  spring  grandly  from  the 
floor  of  the  bridge,  cutting  the  most  awful  flourishes 
with  his  legs  as  he  went  up.  I  saw  him  high  in  the  air, 
pigeon- winging  it  to  admiration  just  over  the  top  of 
the  stile;  and  of  course  I  thought  it  an  unusually 
singular  thing  that  he  did  not  continue  to  go  over. 
But  the  whole  leap  was  the  affair  of  a  moment,  and, 
before  I  had  a  chance  to  make  any  profound  reflec 
tions,  down  came  Mr.  Dammit  on  the  flat  of  his  back, 
on  the  same  side  of  the  stile  from  which  he  had  started. 
At  the  same  instant  I  saw  the  old  gentleman  limping 
off  at  the  top  of  his  speed,  having  caught  and  wrapped 
up  in  his  apron  something  that  fell  heavily  into  it  from 
the  darkness  of  the  arch  just  over  the  turnstile.  At 
all  this  I  was  much  astonished ;  but  I  had  no  leisure 
to  think,  for  Mr.  Dammit  lay  particularly  still,  and  I 

297 


Never  Bet  the  Devil  Your  Head 


concluded  that  his  feelings  had  been  hurt,  and  that 
he  stood  in  need  of  my  assistance.  I  hurried  up  to 
him  and  found  that  he  had  received  what  might  be 
termed  a  serious  injury.  The  truth  is,  he  had  been  de 
prived  of  his  head,  which  after  a  close  search  I  could 
not  find  anywhere ;  so  I  determined  to  take  him  home, 
and  send  for  the  homoeopathists.  In  the  meantime  a 
thought  struck  me,  and  I  threw  open  an  adjacent 
window  of  the  bridge,  when  the  sad  truth  flashed 
upon  me  at  once.  About  five  feet  just  above  the 
top  of  the  turnstile,  and  crossing  the  arch  of  the  foot 
path  so  as  to  constitute  a  brace,  there  extended  a  flat 
iron  bar,  lying  with  its  breadth  horizontally,  and 
forming  one  of  a  series  that  served  to  strengthen  the 
structure  throughout  its  extent.  With  the  edge  of 
this  brace  it  appeared  evident  that  the  neck  of  my 
unfortunate  friend  had  come  precisely  in  contact. 

He  did  not  long  survive  his  terrible  loss.  The 
homoeopathists  did  not  give  him  little  enough  physic, 
and  what  little  they  did  give  him  he  hesitated  to  take. 
So  in  the  end  he  grew  worse,  and  at  length  died,  a 
lesson  to  all  riotous  livers.  I  bedewed  his  grave  with 
iny  tears,  worked  a  bar  sinister  on  his  family  escutch 
eon,  and  for  the  general  expenses  of  his  funeral 
sent  in  my  very  moderate  bill  to  the  transcendentalists. 
The  scoundrels  refused  to  pay,  so  I  had  Mr.  Dammit 
dug  up  at  once,  and  sold  him  for  dog's  meat. 


298 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 


OU  hard-hearted,  dunder-headed,  obstinate, 
rusty,  crusty,  musty,  fusty  old  savage !  " 
said  I,  in  fancy,  one  afternoon,  to  my 
grand-uncle  Rumgudgeon,  shaking  my  fist  at  him  hi 
imagination. 

Only  in  imagination.  The  fact  is,  some  trival  dis 
crepancy  did  exist,  just  then,  between  what  I  said  and 
what  I  had  not  the  courage  to  say,  between  what  I 
did  and  what  I  had  half  a  mind  to  do. 

The  old  porpoise,  as  I  opened  the  drawing-room 
door,  was  sitting  with  his  feet  upon  the  mantelpiece, 
and  a  bumper  of  port  in  his  paw,  making  strenuous 
efforts  to  accomplish  the  ditty : 

Remplis  ton  verre  vide ! 
Vide  ton  verre  plein ! 

"  My  dear  uncle,"  said  I,  closing  the  door  gently, 

299 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 

and  approaching  him  with  the  blandest  of  smiles,  "  you 
are  always  so  very  kind  and  considerate,  and  have 
evinced  your  benevolence  in  so  many,  so  very  many 
ways,  that — that  I  feel  I  have  only  to  suggest  this  little 
point  to  you  once  more  to  make  sure  of  your  fuU 
acquiescence." 

"  Hem!  »  said  he,  "  good  boy!  go  on!  " 

"  I  am  sure,  my  dearest  uncle  (you  confounded  old 
rascal!),  that  you  have  no  design  really,  seriously,  to 
oppose  my  union  with  Kate.  This  is  merely  a  joke  of 
yours;  I  know — ha!  ha!  ha! — how  very  pleasant  you 
are  at  times." 

"  Ha!  ha!  ha!  "  said  he,  "  curse  you!  yes!  " 

"  To  be  sure — of  course !  I  knew  you  were  jesting. 
Now,  uncle,  all  that  Kate  and  myself  wish  at  present, 
is  that  you  would  oblige  us  with  your  advice  as — as 
regards  the  time — you  know,  uncle, — in  short,  when 
will  it  be  most  convenient  for  yourself  that  the  wed 
ding  shall — shall — come  off,  you  know  ?  " 

"  *  Come  off,'  you  scoundrel!  what  do  you  mean 
by  that  ?  Better  wait  till  it  goes  on." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha!— he!  he!  he!— hi!  hi!hi!— ho!  ho! 
ho !— hu !  hu !  hu ! — oh,  that 's  good !  oh,  that  *s  capital ! 
such  a  wit!  But  all  we  want  just  now,  you  know, 
uncle,  is  that  you  would  indicate  the  time  precisely." 

"Ah!  precisely?" 

"  Yes,  uncle — that  is,  if  it  would  be  quite  agreeable 
to  yourself." 

300 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 

"  Would  n't  it  answer,  Bobby,  if  I  were  to  leave  it 
at  random ;  some  time  within  a  year  or  so,  for  exam 
ple  ?  Must  I  say  precisely  ?  " 

"  If  you  please,  uncle,  precisely." 

"  Well,  then,  Bobby,  my  boy,  you  're  a  fine  fellow, 
are  n't  you  ?  since  you  will  have  the  exact  time  I  '11 
— why,  I  '11  oblige  you  for  once." 

"  Dear  uncle !  " 

"  Hush,  sir!  "  (drowning  my  voice)  "  I  '11  oblige  you 
for  once.  You  shall  have  my  consent ;  and  the  plum, 
we  must  n't  forget  the  plum — let  me  see !  when  shall 
it  be  ?  To-day  's  Sunday,  is  n't  it  ?  Well,  then,  you 
shall  be  married  precisely — precisely,  now  mind — when 
three  Sundays  come  together  in  a  week!  Do  you 
hear  me,  sir  ?  What  are  you  gaping  at  ?  I  say,  you 
shall  have  Kate  and  her  plum  when  three  Sundays 
come  together  in  a  week,  but  not  till  then,  you  young 
scapegrace,  not  till  then,  if  I  die  for  it.  You  know 
me;  I 'm  a  man  of  my  word — now  be  off!"  Here 
he  swallowed  his  bumper  of  port,  while  I  rushed  from 
the  room  in  despair. 

A  very  "  fine  old  English  gentleman,"  was  my  grand- 
uncle  Rumgudgeon,  but  unlike  him  of  the  song,  he 
had  his  weak  points.  He  was  a  little,  pursy,  pompous, 
passionate  semicircular  somebody,  with  a  red  nose,  a 
thick  skull,  a  long  purse,  and  a  strong  sense  of  his  own 
consequence.  With  the  best  heart  in  the  world,  he  con 
trived,  through  a  predominant  whim  of  contradiction, 

301 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 

to  earn  for  himself,  among  those  who  only  knew  him 
superficially,  the  character  of  a  curmudgeon.  Like 
many  excellent  people,  he  seemed  possessed  with  a 
spirit  of  tantalization,  which  might  easily,  at  a  casual 
glance,  have  been  mistaken  for  malevolence.  To 
every  request, "a  positive  "No!"  was  his  immediate 
answer;  but  in  the  end,  in  the  long,  long  end,  there 
were  exceedingly  few  requests  which  he  refused. 
Against  all  attacks  upon  his  purse  he  made  the  most 
sturdy  defence;  but  the  amount  extorted  from  him, 
at  last,  was  generally  in  direct  ratio  with  the  length  of 
the  siege  and  the  stubbornness  of  the  resistance.  In 
charity  no  one  gave  more  liberally  or  with  a  worse 
grace. 

For  the  fine  arts,  and  especially  for  the  belles-lettres, 
he  entertained  a  profound  contempt.  With  this  he 
had  been  inspired  by  Casimir  Perier,  whose  pert  little 
query,  A  quoi  an  poete  est'il  bon  /  he  was  in  the 
habit  of  quoting,  with  a  very  droll  pronunciation,  as 
the  ne  plus  ultra  of  logical  wit.  Thus  my  own  inkling 
for  the  Muses  had  excited  his  entire  displeasure.  He 
assured  me  one  day,  when  I  asked  him  for  a  new 
copy  of  Horace,  that  the  translation  of  Poeta  nascitur 
non  fit  was  "  a  nasty  poet  for  nothing  fit,"  a  remark 
which  I  took  in  high  dudgeon.  His  repugnance  to 
"  the  humanities  "  had,  also,  much  increased  of  late, 
by  an  accidental  bias  in  favor  of  what  he  supposed  to 
be  natural  science.  Somebody  had  accosted  him  in 

302 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 

the  street,  mistaking  him  for  no  less  a  personage  than 
Doctor  Bubble  L.  Dee,  the  lecturer  on  quack  physics. 
This  set  him  off  at  a  tangent;  and  just  at  the  epoch 
of  this  story,  for  story  it  is  getting  to  be  after  all,  my 
grand-uncle  Rumgudgeon  was  accessible  and  pacific 
only  upon  points  which  happened  to  chime  in  with 
the  caprioles  of  the  hobby  he  was  riding.  For  the 
rest,  he  laughed  with  his  arms  and  legs,  and  his 
politics  were  stubborn  and  easily  understood.  He 
thought,  with  Horsley,  that  "  the  people  have  nothing 
to  do  with  the  laws  but  to  obey  them." 

I  had  lived  with  the  old  gentleman  all  my  life.  My 
parents,  in  dying,  had  bequeathed  me  to  him  as  a  rich 
legacy.  I  believe  the  old  villain  loved  me  as  his  own 
child,  nearly  if  not  quite  as  well  as  he  loved  Kate,  but  it 
was  a  dog's  existence  that  he  led  me,  after  all.  From 
my  first  year  until  my  fifth,  he  obliged  me  with  very 
regular  floggings.  From  five  to  fifteen,  he  threatened 
me,  hourly,  with  the  House  of  Correction.  From 
fifteen  to  twenty,  not  a  day  passed  in  which  he  did 
not  promise  to  cut  me  off  with  a  shilling.  I  was  a  sad 
dog,  it  is  true,  but  then  it  was  a  part  of  my  nature,  a 
point  of  my  faith.  In  Kate,  however,  I  had  a  firm 
friend,  and  I  knew  it.  She  was  a  good  girl,  and  told 
me  very  sweetly  that  I  might  have  her  (plum  and  all) 
whenever  I  could  badger  my  grand-uncle  Rumgudgeon 
into  the  necessary  consent.  Poor  girl !  she  was  barely 
fifteen,  and  without  his  consent  her  little  amount  in 

3°3 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 

the  funds  was  not  come-at-able  until  five  immeasurable 
summers  had  "  dragged  their  slow  length  along." 
What,  then,  to  do  ?  At  fifteen,  or  even  at  twenty- 
one  (for  I  had  now  passed  my  fifth  olympiad),  five 
years  in  prospect  are  very  much  the  same  as  five  hun 
dred.  In  vain  we  besieged  the  old  gentleman  with 
importunities.  Here  was  a  piece  de  resistance  (as 
Messieurs  Ude  and  Carene  would  say)  which  suited 
his  perverse  fancy  to  a  T.  It  would  have  stirred  the 
indignation  of  Job  himself  to  see  how  much  like  an 
old  mouser  he  behaved  to  us  poor  wretched  little  mice. 
In  his  heart  he  wished  for  nothing  more  ardently  than 
our  union.  He  had  made  up  his  mind  to  this  all 
along.  In  fact,  he  would  have  given  ten  thousand 
pounds  from  his  own  pocket  (Kate's  plum  was  her 
own)  if  he  could  have  invented  anything  like  an 
excuse  for  complying  with  our  very  natural  wishes. 
But  then  we  had  been  so  imprudent  as  to  broach  the 
subject  ourselves.  Not  to  oppose  it  under  such  cir-  - 
cumstances,  I  sincerely  believe,  was  not  in  his  power. 
I  have  said  already  that  he  had  his  weak  points ;  but, 
in  speaking  of  these,  I  must  not  be  understood  as  re 
ferring  to  his  obstinacy,  which  was  one  of  his  strong 
points, — assurement  ce  n'etait  pas  son  faible,  When 
I  mention  his  weakness  I  have  allusion  to  a  bizarre 
old-womanish  superstition  which  beset  him.  He  was 
great  in  dreams,  portents,  et  id  genus  omne  of  rig 
marole.  He  was  excessively  punctilious,  too,  upon 

304 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 

small  points  of  honor,  and,  after  his  own  fashion,  was 
a  man  of  his  word,  beyond  doubt.  This  was,  in  fact, 
one  of  his  hobbies.  The  spirit  of  his  vows  he  made 
no  scruple  of  setting  at  naught,  but  the  letter  was  a 
bond  inviolable.  Now  it  was  this  latter  peculiarity 
in  his  disposition,  of  which  Kate's  ingenuity  enabled 
us  one  fine  day,  not  long  after  our  interview  in  the 
dining-room,  to  take  a  very  unexpected  advantage, 
and,  having  thus,  in  the  fashion  of  all  modern  bards 
and  orators,  exhausted  in  prolegomena  all  the  time 
at  my  command,  and  nearly  all  the  room  at  my  dis 
posal,  I  will  sum  up  in  a  few  words  what  constitutes 
the  whole  pith  of  the  story. 

It  happened,  then,  so  the  Fates  ordered  it,  that  among 
the  naval  acquaintances  of  my  betrothed  were  two 
gentlemen  who  had  just  set  foot  upon  the  shores  of 
England,  after  a  year's  absence,  each,  in  foreign  travel. 
In  company  with  these  gentlemen,  my  cousin  and  I 
preconcertedly  paid  Uncle  Rumgudgeon  a  visit  on  the 
afternoon  of  Sunday,  October  the  tenth,  just  three 
weeks  after  the  memorable  decision  which  had  so 
cruelly  defeated  our  hopes.  For  about  half  an  hour 
the  conversation  ran  upon  ordinary  topics;  but  at 
last,  we  contrived,  quite  naturally,  to  give  it  the  fol 
lowing  turn: 

Capt  Pratt,  "  Well,  I  have  been  absent  just  one 
year.  Just  one  year  to-day,  as  I  live;  let  me  see! 
yes!  this  is  October  the  tenth.  You  remember,  Mr. 

VOL.  IV.— 20.  30  (- 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 

Rumgudgeon,  I  called,  this  day  year,  to  bid  you 
good-bye.  And  by  the  way,  it  does  seem  something 
like  a  coincidence,  does  it  not,  that  our  friend,  Captain 
Smitherton,  here,  has  been  absent  exactly  a  year  also, 
a  year  to-day  ?  " 

Smitherton,  "  Yes!  just  one  year  to  a  fraction. 
You  will  remember,  Mr.  Rumgudgeon,  that  I  called 
with  Capt.  Pratt  on  this  very  day,  last  year,  to  pay 
my  parting  respects." 

Uncle,  "  Yes,  yes,  yes,  I  remember  it  very  well; 
very  queer  indeed!  Both  of  you  gone  just  one  year, 
A  very  strange  coincidence,  indeed !  Just  what  Doctor 
Bubble  L.  Dee  would  denominate  an  extraordinary 
concurrence  of  events.  Doctor  Dub " 

Kate,  (Interrupting}  "  To  be  sure,  papa,  it  is 
something  strange;  but  then,  Captain  Pratt  and 
Captain  Smithertcn  did  n't  go  altogether  the  same 
route,  and  that  makes  a  difference,  you  know." 

Uncle,  "  I  don't  know  any  such  thing,  you  huzzy! 
How  should  I  ?  I  think  it  only  makes  the  matter 
more  remarkable.  Doctor  Dubble  L.  Dee " 

Kate,  "  Why,  papa,  Captain  Pratt  went  round  Cape 
Horn,  and  Captain  Smitherton  doubled  the  Cape  oi 
Good  Hope." 

Uncle,  "  Precisely !  the  one  went  east  and  the  other 
went  west,  you  jade,  and  they  both  have  gone  quite 
round  the  world.  By  the  bye,  Doctor  Dubble  L, 

Dee » 

306 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 

Myself,  (hurriedly}  "  Captain  Pratt,  you  must 
come  and  spend  the  evening  with  us  to-morrow,  you 
and  Smitherton ;  you  can  tell  us  all  about  your  voyage, 
and  we  '11  have  a  game  of  whist  and " 

Pratt,  "  Whist,  my  dear  fellow!  you  forget.  To 
morrow  will  be  Sunday.  Some  other  evening " 

Kate,  "  Oh,  no,  fie !  Robert 's  not  quite  so  bad  as 
that.  To-day  's  Sunday." 

Uncle,     "  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure!  " 

Pratt,  "  I  beg  both  your  pardons;  but  I  can't-be  so 
much  mistaken.  I  know  to-morrow  's  Sunday,  be 
cause " 

Smitherton,  (much  surprised}  "  What  are  you 
all  thinking  about?  Wasn't  yesterday  Sunday,  I 
should  like  to  know  ?  " 

All.     "  Yesterday,  indeed!  you  are  out!  " 

Uncle,     "  To-day  »s  Sunday,  I  say ;  don't  I  know  ?  " 

Pratt,     "  Oh  no!  to-morrow  's  Sunday." 

Smitherton,     "  You  are  all  mad,  every  one  of  you. 
tl  am  as  positive  that  yesterday  was  Sunday  as  I  am 
hat  I  sit  upon  this  chair." 

Kate,  ( jumping  up  eagerly}  "  I  see  it,  I  see  it  all  I 
?apa,  this  is  a  judgment  upon  you — about — about  you 
mow  what.  Let  me  alone,  and  I  '11  explain  it  all  in  a 
ninute.  It 's  a  very  simple  thing,  indeed.  Captain 
>mitherton  says  that  yesterday  was  Sunday :  so  it  was ; 
ie  is  right.  Cousin  Bobby,  and  uncle  and  I,  say  that 
o-day  is  Sunday:  so  it  is;  we  are  right.  Captain 

30? 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 

Pratt  maintains  that  to-morrow  will  be  Sunday :  so  it 
will;  he  is  right,  too.  The  fact  is,  we  are  all  right, 
and  thus  three  Sundays  have  come  together  in  a  week." 
Smitherton,  (after  a  pause)  "  By  the  bye,  Pratt, 
Kate  has  us  completely.  What  fools  we  two  are! 
Mr.  Rumgudgeon,  the  matter  stands  thus:  the  earth, 
you  know,  is  twenty-four  thousand  miles  in  circum 
ference.  Now  this  globe  of  the  earth  turns  upon  its 
own  axis,  revolves,  spins  round  these  twenty-four 
thousand  miles  of  extent,  going  from  west  to  east,  in 
precisely  twenty-four  hours.  Do  you  understand,  Mr. 
Rumgudgeon  ?  " 

Uncle,     "  To  be  sure,  to  be  sure ;  Doctor  Dub " 

Smitherton,  (drowning  his  voice]  "  Well,  sir, 
that  is  at  the  rate  of  one  thousand  miles  per  hour. 
Now,  suppose  that  I  sail  from  this  position  a  thousand 
miles  east.  Of  course  I  anticipate  the  rising  of  the 
sun  here  at  London  by  just  one  hour.  I  see  the  sun 
rise  one  hour  before  you  do.  Proceeding,  in  the 
same  direction,  yet  another  thousand  miles,  I  antici 
pate  the  rising  by  two  hours;  another  thousand,  and 
I  anticipate  it  by  three  hours,  and  so  on,  until  I  go 
entirely  round  the  globe,  and  back  to  this  spot,  when 
having  gone  twenty-four  thousand  miles  east,  I  anti 
cipate  the  rising  of  the  London  sun  by  no  less  thai 
twenty-four  hours;  that  is  to  say,  I  am  a  day  ii 
advance  of  your  time.  Understand,  eh  ?  " 

Uncle,     "  But  Dubble  L. 
308 


Three  Sundays  in  a  Week 

Smitherton,  (speaking  very  loud)  "  Captain  Pratt, 
on  the  contrary,  when  he  had  sailed  a  thousand  miles 
west  of  this  position,  was  an  hour,  and  when  he  had 
sailed  twenty-four  thousand  miles  west  was  twenty-four 
hours,  or  one  day,  behind  the  time  at  London.  Thus, 
with  me,  yesterday  was  Sunday;  thus,  with  you,  to 
day  Is  Sunday;  and  thus,  with  Pratt,  to-morrow  will 
be  Sunday.  And  what  is  more,  Mr.  Rumgudgeon,  it 
is  positively  clear  that  we  are  all  right;  for  there  can 
be  no  philosophical  reason  assigned  why  the  idea  of 
one  of  us  should  have  the  preference  over  that  of  the 
other." 

Uncle,  "  My  eyes!  well,  Kate!  well,  Bobby!  this 
is  a  judgment  upon  me,  as  you  say.  But  I  am  a  man 
of  my  word ;  mark  thai'.  YOU  shall  have  her,  boy 
(plum  and  all),  when  you  please.  Dons  up,  by  Jove! 
Three  Sundays  all  in  a  row!  I  Jll  go  and  take  Dubble 
L.  Dee's  opinion  upon  that." 


3°9 


Eleonora 


Sub  conservatione  formae  specificae  salva  anima. 

RAYMOND  LULLY. 


m 


AM  come  of  a  race  noted  for  vigor  of  fancy 
and  ardor  of  passion.  Men  have  called  me 
mad;  but  the  question  is  not  yet  settled 
whether  madness  is  or  is  not  the  loftiest  intelligence ; 
whether  much-  that  is  glorious,  whether  all  that  is  pro 
found,  does  not  spring  from  disease  of  thought,  from 
moods  of  mind  exalted  at  the  expense  of  the  general 
intellect.  They  who  dream  by  day  are  cognizant  of 
many  things  which  escape  those  who  dream  only  by 
night.  In  their  gray  visions  they  obtain  glimpses  of 
eternity,  and  thrill,  in  waking,  to  find  that  they  have 
been  upon  the  verge  of  the  great  secret.  In  snatches 
they  learn  something  of  the  wisdom  which  is  of  good, 
and  more  of  the  mere  knowledge  which  is  of  evil. 
They  penetrate,  however  rudderless  or  compassless, 
into  the  vast  ocean  of  the  "light  ineffable,"  and 
again,  like  the  adventures  of  the  Nubian  geographer, 


Eleonora 

"aggressi  sunt  mare  tenebranim,  quid  in  eo  esset 
exploraturi." 

We  will  say,  then,  that  I  am  mad.  I  grant,  at  least, 
that  there  are  two  distinct  conditions  of  my  mental 
existence :  the  condition  of  a  lucid  reason,  not  to  be 
disputed,  and  belonging  to  the  memory  of  events  form 
ing  the  first  epoch  of  my  life,  and  a  condition  of 
shadow  and  doubt,  appertaining  to  the  present  and  to 
the  recollection  of  what  constitutes  the  second  great 
era  of  my  being.  Therefore,  what  I  shall  tell  of  the 
earlier  period,  believe ;  and  to  what  I  may  relate  of  the 
later  time,  give  only  such  credit  as  may  seem  due ;  or 
doubt  it  altogether;  or,  if  doubt  it  ye  cannot,  then 
play  unto  its  riddle  the  (Edipus. 

She  whom  I  loved  in  youth,  and  of  whom  I  now  pen 
calmly  and  distinctly  these  remembrances,  was  the 
sole  daughter  of  the  only  sister  of  my  mother,  long 
departed.  Eleonora  was  the  name  of  my  cousin. 
We  had  always  dwelled  together,  beneath  a  tropical 
sun,  in  the  Valley  of  the  Many-Colored  Grass.  No 
unguided  footstep  ever  came  upon  that  vale;  for  it 
lay  far  away  up  among  a  range  of  giant  hills  that 
hung  beetling  around  about  it,  shutting  out  the  sun- 
\  light  from  its  sweetest  recesses.  No  path  was  trodden 
in  its  vicinity;  and,  to  reach  our  happy  home,  there 
was  need  of  putting  back,  with  force,  the  foliage  of 
many  thousands  of  forest  trees,  and  of  crushing  to 
death  the  glories  of  many  millions  of  fragrant  flowers. 

3" 


Eleonora 

Thus  it  was  that  we  lived  all  alone,  knowing  nothing 
of  the  world  without  the  valley, — I,  and  my  cousin, 
and  her  mother. 

From  the  dim  regions  beyond  the  mountains  at  the 
upper  end  of  our  encircled  domain  there  crept  out  a 
narrow  and  deep  river,  brighter  than  all  save  the  eyes 
of  Eleonora;  and,  winding  stealthily  about  in  mazy 
courses,  it  passed  away,  at  length,  through  a  shadowy 
gorge,  among  hills  still  dimmer  than  those  whence  it 
had  issued.  We  called  it  the  "  River  of  Silence,"  for 
there  seemed  to  be  a  hushing  influence  in  its  flow. 
No  murmur  arose  from  its  bed,  and  so  gently  it  wan 
dered  along,  that  the  pearly  pebbles  upon  which  we 
loved  to  gaze,  far  down  within  its  bosom,  stirred  not 
at  all,  but  lay  in  a  motionless  content,  each  in  its  own 
old  station,  shining  on  gloriously  forever. 

The  margin  of  the  river,  and  of  the  many  dazzling 
rivulets  that  glided  through  devious  ways  into  its 
channel,  as  well  as  the  spaces  that  extended  from  the 
margins  away  down  into  the  depths  of  the  streams 
until  they  reached  the  bed  of  pebbles  at  the  bottom, — 
these  spots,  not  less  than  the  whole  surface  of  the 
valley,  from  the  river  to  the  mountains  that  girdled  it 
in,  were  carpeted  all  by  a  soft  green  grass,  thick,  short, 
perfectly  even,  and  vanilla  -  perfumed,  but  so  be 
sprinkled  throughout  with  the  yellow  buttercup,  the 
white  daisy,  the  purple  violet,  and  the  ruby-red 
asphodel,  that  its  exceeding  beauty  spoke  to  our 

3*! 


Eleonora 

hearts  in  loud  tones  of  the  love  and  of  the  glory  of 
God. 

And  here  and  there,  in  groves  about  this  grass,  like 
wildernesses  of  dreams,  sprang  up  fantastic  trees,  whose 
tall,  slender  stems  stood  not  upright,  but  slanted  grace 
fully  toward  the  light  that  peered  at  noonday  into  the 
centre  of  the  valley.  Their  bark  was  speckled  with 
the  vivid  alternate  splendor  of  ebony  and  silver,  and 
was  smoother  than  all  save  the  cheeks  of  Eleonora; 
so  that,  but  for  the  brilliant  green  of  the  huge  leaves 
that  spread  from  their  summits  in  long,  tremulous 
lines,  dallying  with  the  zephyrs,  one  might  have 
fancied  them  giant  serpents  of  Syria  doing  homage 
to  their  sovereign,  the  Sun. 

Hand  in  hand  about  this  valley,  for  fifteen  years, 

roamed  I  with  Eleonora  before    love  entered  within 

our  hearts.     It  was  one  evening  at  the  close  of  the 

third  lustrum  of  her  life,  and  of  the  fourth  of  my  own, 

that  we  sat,  locked  in  each  other's  embrace,  beneath 

the  serpent-like  trees,  and  looked  down  within  the 

waterb  of  the  River  of  Silence  at  our  images  therein. 

We  spoke  no  words  during  the  rest  of  that  sweet  day; 

and  oui  words  even  upon  the  morrow  were  tremulous 

and  few.    We  had  drawn  the  god  Eros  from  that 

wave,  and  now  we  felt  that  he  had  enkindled  within 

us  the  fiery  souls  of  our  forefathers.     The  passions 

which  had  fo\  centuries  distinguished  our  race  came 

thronging  withthe  fancies  for  which  they  had  been 


Eleonora 

equally  noted,  and  together  breathed  a  delirious  bliss 
over  the  Valley  of  the  Many-Colored  Grass.     A  change 
fell  upon  all  things.     Strange,  brilliant  flowers,  star- 
shaped,  burst  out  upon  the  trees  where  no  flowers  had 
been  known  before.     The  tints  of  the  green  carpet 
deepened;  and  when,  one  by  one,  the  white  daisies 
shrank  away,  there  sprang  up,  in  place  of  them,  ten 
by  ten  of  the  ruby-red  asphodel.    And  life  arose  in  our 
paths;  for  the  tall  flamingo,  hitherto  unseen,  with 
all  gay  glowing  birds,    flaunted  his  scarlet  plumage 
before  us.     The  golden  and  silver  fish  haunted  the 
river,  out  of  the  bosom  of  which  issued,  little  by  little, 
a  murmur  that  swelled,  at  length,  into  a  lulling  melody 
more  divine  than  that  of  the  harp  of  ^Eolus,  sweeter 
than  all  save  the  voice  of  Eleonora.     And  now,  too, 
a  voluminous  cloud,  which  we  had  long  watched  in 
the  regions  of  Hesper,  floated  out  thence,  all  gorgeous 
in  crimson  and  gold,  and,  settling  in  peace  above  us 
sank,  day  by  day,  lower  and  lower,  until  its  edges 
rested  upon  the  tops  of  the  mountains,  turning  al] 
their  dimness  into  magnificence,  and  shutting  as  up, 
as  if  forever,  within  a  magic  prison-house  of  grandeui 
and  of  glory. 

The  loveliness  of  Eleonora  was  that  of  the  Seraphim ; 
but  she  was  a  maiden  artless  and  innocent -is  the  briei 
life  she  had  led  among  the  flowers.  No  ^  disguised 
the  fervor  of  love  which  animated  her-ieart,  and  she 
examined  with  me  its  inmost  recess^  as  we  walked 

3U 


Eleonora 

together  in  the  Valley  of  the  Many-Colored  Grass,  and 
discoursed  of  the  mighty  changes  which  had  lately 
taken  place  therein. 

At  length,  having  spoken  one  day,  in  tears,  of  the 
last  sad  change  which  must  befall  humanity,  she 
thenceforward  dwelt  only  upon  this  one  sorrowful 
theme,  interweaving  it  into  all  our  converse,  as,  in 
the  songs  of  the  Bard  of  Schiraz,  the  same  images  are 
found  occurring,  again  and  again,  in  every  impressive 
variation  of  phrase. 

She  had  seen  that  the  finger  of  Death  was  upon  her 
bosom;  that,  like  the  ephemeron,  she  had  been  made 
perfect  in  loveliness  only  to  die ;  but  the  terrors  of  the 
grave  to  her  lay  solely  in  a  consideration  which  she 
revealed  to  me,  one  evening  at  twilight,  by  the  banks 
of  the  River  of  Silence.  She  grieved  to  think  that, 
having  entombed  her  in  the  Valley  of  the  Many- 
Colored  Grass,  I  would  quit  forever  its  happy  recesses, 
transferring  the  love  which  now  was  so  passionately 
her  own  to  some  maiden  of  the  outer  and  every-day 
world.  And  then  and  there  I  threw  myself  hurriedly 
at  the  feet  of  Eleonora,  and  offered  up  a  vow,  to  her 
self  and  to  Heaven,  that  I  would  never  bind  myself  in 
marriage  to  any  daughter  of  earth ;  that  I  would  in  no 
manner  prove  recreant  to  her  dear  memory,  or  to  the 
memory  of  the  devout  affection  with  which  she  had 
blessed  me.  And  I  called  the  Mighty  Ruler  of  the 
Universe  to  witness  the  pious  solemnity  of  my  vow. 


Eleonora 

And  the  curse  which  I  invoked  of  Him  and  of  her,  a 
saint  in  Helusion,  should  I  prove  traitorous  to  that 
promise,  involved  a  penalty  the  exceeding  great  horror 
of  which  will  not  permit  me  to  make  record  of  it  here. 
And  the  bright  eyes  of  Eleonora  grew  brighter  at  my 
words ;  and  she  sighed  as  if  a  deadly  burden  had  been 
taken  from  her  breast;  and  she  trembled  and  very 
bitterly  wept;  but  she  made  acceptance  of  the  vow 
(for  what  was  she  but  a  child  ?),  and  it  made  easy  to 
her  the  bed  of  her  death.  And  she  said  to  me,  not 
many  days  afterward,  tranquilly  dying,  that,  because 
of  what  I  had  done  for  the  comfort  of  her  spirit  she 
would  watch  over  me  in  that  spirit  when  departed, 
and,  if  so  it  were  permitted  her,  return  to  me  visibly 
in  the  watches  of  the  night;  but  if  this  thing  were, 
indeed,  beyond  the  power  of  the  souls  in  paradise,  that 
she  would,  at  least,  give  me  frequent  indications  of 
her  presence,  sighing  upon  me  in  the  evening  winds, 
or  filling  the  air  which  I  breathed  with  perfume  from 
the  censers  of  the  angels.  And  with  these  words 
upon  her  lips  she  yielded  up  her  innocent  life,  putting 
an  end  to  the  first  epoch  of  my  own. 

Thus  far  I  have  faithfully  said.  But  as  I  pass  the 
barrier  in  Time's  path,  formed  by  the  death  of  my 
beloved,  and  proceed  with  the  second  era  of  my  exis 
tence,  I  feel  that  a  shadow  gathers  over  my  brain, 
and  I  mistrust  the  perfect  sanity  of  the  record.  But 
let  me  on.  Years  dragged  themselves  along  heavily, 

316 


Eleonora 

and  still  I  dwelled  within  the  Valley  of  the  Many- 
Colored  Grass;  but  a  second  change  had  come  upor 
all  things.  The  star-shaped  flowers  shrank  into  th< 
stems  of  the  trees,  and  appeared  no  more.  The  tints 
of  the  green  carpet  faded ;  and,  one  by  one,  the  ruby- 
red  asphodels  withered  away;  and  there  sprang  up 
in  place  of  them,  ten  by  ten,  dark,  eye-like  violets 
that  writhed  uneasily  and  were  ever  encumberec 
with  dew.  And  life  departed  from  our  paths;  fo: 
the  tall  flamingo  flaunted  no  longer  his  scarlet  plu 
mage  before  us,  but  flew  sadly  from  the  vale  into  th( 
hills,  with  all  the  gay  glowing  birds  that  had  arrivec 
in  his  company.  And  the  golden  and  silver  fish  swan 
down  through  the  gorge  at  the  lower  end  of  our  do 
main  and  bedecked  the  sweet  river  never  again.  Anc 
the  lulling  melody  that  had  been  softer  than  the  wind- 
harp  of  jEolus,  and  more  divine  than  all  save  the 
voice  of  Eleonora,  it  died  little  by  little  away,  ir 
murmurs  growing  lower  and  lower,  until  the  strearr 
returned,  at  length,  utterly,  into  the  solemnity  of  its 
original  silence.  And  then,  lastly,  the  voluminous 
cloud  uprose,  and,  abandoning  the  tops  of  the  moun 
tains  to  the  dimness  of  old,  fell  back  into  the  regions 
of  Hesper,  and  took  away  all  its  manifold  golden  and 
gorgeous  glories  from  the  Valley  of  the  Many-Colored 
Grass. 

Yet  the  promises  of  Eleonora  were  not  forgotten 
or  I  heard  the  sounds  of  the  swinging  of  the  censers 


Eleonora 


of  the  angels  ;  and  streams  of  a  holy  perfume  floated 
ever  and  ever  about  the  valley;  and  at  lone  hours, 
when  my  heart  beat  heavily,  the  winds  that  bathed 
my  brow  came  unto  me  laden  with  soft  sighs;  and 
indistinct  murmurs  filled  often  the  night  air;  and 
once,  oh,  but  once  only!  I  was  awakened  from  a 
slumber  like  the  slumber  of  death  by  the  pressing 
of  spiritual  lips  upon  my  own. 

But  the  void  within  my  heart  refused,  even  thus,  to 
be  filled.  I  longed  for  the  love  which  had  before  filled 
it  to  overflowing.  At  length  the  valley  pained  me 
through  its  memories  of  Eleonora,  and  I  left  it  for 
ever  for  the  vanities  and  the  turbulent  triumphs  of  the 
world.  VtW 


I  found  myself  within  a  strange  city,  where  all  things 
might  have  served  to  blot  from  recollection  the  sweet 
dreams  I  had  dreamed  so  long  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Many-Colored  Grass.  The  pomps  and  pageantries  of 
a  stately  court,  and  the  mad  clangor  of  arms,  and  the 
radiant  loveliness  of  women,  bewildered  and  intoxi 
cated  my  brain.  But  as  yet  my  soul  had  proved  true 
to  its  vows,  and  the  indications  of  the  presence  of 
Eleonora  were  still  given  me  in  the  silent  hours  of  the 
night.  Suddenly  these  manifestations  —  they  ceased, 
and  the  world  grew  dark  before  mine  eyes,  and  I  stood 
aghast  at  the  burning  thoughts  which  possessed,  at 
the  terrible  temptations  which  beset,  me  ;  for  there 

318 


Kleonora 

came  from  some  far,  far  distant  and  unknown  lands 
into  the  gay  court  of  the  king  I  served,  a  maiden  to 
whose  beauty  my  whole  recreant  heart  yielded  at  once, 
at  whose  footstool  I  bowed  down  without  a  struggle,  hi 
the  most  ardent,  in  the  most  abject  worship  of  love. 
What,  indeed,  was  my  passion  for  the  young  girl  of  the 
valley  hi  comparison  with  the  fervor,  and  the  delirium, 
and  the  spirit-lifting  ecstasy  of  adoration  with  which 
I  poured  out  my  whole  soul  in  tears  at  the  feet  of  the 
ethereal  Ermengarde  ?  Oh,  bright  was  the  seraph 
Ermengarde!  and  in  that  knowledge  I  had  room  for 
none  other.  Oh,  divine  was  the  angel  Ermengarde! 
and  as  I  looked  down  into  the  depths  of  her  memorial 
eyes,  I  thought  only  of  them,  and  of  her. 

I  wedded,  nor  dreaded  the  curse  I  had  invoked ;  and 
its  bitterness  was  not  visited  upon  me.  And  once, 
but  once  again  in  the  silence  of  the  night,  there  came 
through  my  lattice  the  soft  sighs  which  had  forsaken 
me;  and  they  modelled  themselves  into  familiar  and 
sweet  voice,  saying: 

"  Sleep  in  peace!  for  the  Spirit  of  Love  reigneth  and 
ruleth,  and,  in  taking  to  thy  passionate  heart  her  who  is 
Ermengarde,  thou  art  absolved,  for  reasons  which  shall 
be  made  known  to  thee  in  heaven,  of  thy  vows  unto 
Eleonora." 


The  Oval  Portrait 


•\ 


v 


HE  chateau  into  which  my  valet  had  ven 
tured  to  make  forcible  entrance,  rather  than 
permit  me,  in  my  desperately  wounded  con*  j 
dition,  to  pass  a  night  in  the  open  air,  was  one 
those  piles  of  commingled  gloom  and  grandeur  whi 
have  so  long  frowned  among  the  Apennines  not  less 
in  fact  than  in  the  fancy  of  Mrs.  Radcliffe.     To  all  ap 
pearance   it   had   been   temporarily   and  very  lately 
abandoned.     We  established  ourselves  in  one  of  the 
smallest  and  least  sumptuously  furnished  apartments. 
It  lay  in  a  remote  turret  of  the  building.     Its  decora 
tions  were  rich,  yet  tattered  and  antique.^  Its  walls 
were  hung  with  tapestry  and  bedecked  with  manifold 
and  multiform  armorial  trophies,  together  with  a* 
unusually  great  number  of  very  spirited  modern  paint 
ings  in  frames  of  rich  golden  arabesque.  I  In  thes' 
paintings,  which  depended  from  the  walls  nit  only  inj 
their  main  surfaces,  but  in  very  many  nooks  whichl 
the    bizarre    architecture    of    the    chateau    rendered 

•*~* 

320 


The  Oval  Portrait 


necessary  ,J— in  these  paintings  my  incipient  delirium, 
•perhaps,  had   caused  me  to  take  deep  interest;    so 

'that  I  bade  Pedro  to  close  the  heavy  shutters  of  the 
room,  since  it  was  already  night ;  to  light  the  tongues 
of  a  tall  candelabrum  which  stood  by  the  head  of  my 
bed  '1  and  to  throw  open  far  and  wide  the  fringed  cur-  \ 
tains  of  black  velvet  which  enveloped  the  bed  itself.  / 

"  I  wished  all  this  done  that  I  might  resign  myself,  if  not 
to  sleep,  at  least  alternately  to  the  contemplation  of 
these  pictures^  and  the  perusal  of  a  small  volume 
which  had  been  found  upon  the  pillow,  and  which 
purported  to  criticise  and  describe  them. 
f  Long,  long  I  read,  and  devoutly,  devoutly  I  gazed.  ' 
.  apidly  and  gloriously  the  hours  flew  by  and  the  deep 
\nidnight  came.  I  The  position  of  the  candelabrum  dis 
pleased  me,  and  outreaching  my  hand  with  difficulty, 
rather  than  disturb  my  slumbering  valet,  I  placed  it  so 
j.s  to  throw  its  rays  more  fully  upon  the  book. 

But  the  action  produced  an  effect  altogether  unanti 
cipated.     The  rays  of  the  numerous  candles  (for  there 
were  many)  now  fell  within  a  niche  of  the  room  which 
&ad  hitherto  been  thrown  into  deep  shade  by  one  of 
be  bedposts.     I  thus  saw  in  vivid  light  a  picture  all 
unnoticed  before.     It  was  the  portrait  of  a  young  girl 
ust   ripening   into    womanhood.     I    glanced    at   the 
nainting  hurriedly,  and  then  closed  my  eyes.     Why 
I  did  this  was  not  at  first  apparent  even  to  my  own 

»  perception.     But  while  my  lids  remained  thus  shut,  I 

321 


The  Oval  Portrait 


ran  over  in  mind  my  reason  for  so  shutting  them. 
It  was  an  impulsive  movement  to  gain  time  for  thought ; 
to  make  sure  that  my  vision  had  not  deceived  me ;  to 
calm  and  subdue  my  fancy  for  a  more  sober  and  more 
certain  gaze.  In  a  very  few  moments  I  again  looked 
fixedly  at  the  painting. 
, "  That  I  now  saw  aright  I  could  not  and  would  not 

/  doubt;   for  the  first  flashing  of  the  candles  upon  that 

f     canvas  had  seemed  to  dissipate  the  dreamy  stupor 
which  was  stealing  over  my  senses,  anVl  to  startle  me  . 

^  at  once  into  waking  life.  J 

The  portrait,  I  have  already  said,  was  that  of  a 
young  girl.  It  was  a  mere  head  and  shoulders,  done  in 
what  is  technically  termed  a  vignette  manner ;/  much 
f  in  the  style  of  the  favorite  heads  of  Sully./  The  arms, 
the  bosom,  and  even  the  ends  of  the  radiant  hair 
melted  imperceptibly  into  the  vague  yet  deep  shadow 
which  formed  the  background  of  the  whole.  The  , 
frame  was  oval,  richly  gilded  and  filigreed  in  Moresque. 
As  a  thing  of  art  nothing  could  be  more  admirable 
than  the  painting  itself.  But  it  could  have  been  neither 
the  execution  of  the  work,  nor  the  immortal  beauty 
of  the  countenance,  which  had  so  suddenly  and  so 
vehemently  moved  me.  /  Least  of  all  could  it  have  ^ 

/  been  that  my  fancy,  shaken  from  its  half  slumber,  had 
mistaken  the  head  for  that  of  a  living  person.     I  saw 

i     at  once  that  the  peculiarities  of  the  design,  of  the 
vignetting,  and  of  the  frame,  must  have  instantly  dis- 

322 


The  Oval  Portrait 


pelled  such  idea,  must  have  prevented  even  its  mo 
mentary  entertainment.  Thinking  earnestly  upon 
these  points,  I  remained,  for  an  hour  perhaps,  half 
sitting,  half  reclining,  with  my  vision  riveted  upon 
the  portrait.  At  length,  satisfied  with  the  true  secret 
of  its  effect,  I  fell  back  within  the  bed.  I  had  found 
the  spell  of  the  picture  in  an  absolute  life-likeliness  of 
expression,  which,  at  first  startling,  finally  confounded, 
subdued,  and  appalled  me.  j With  deep  and  reverent 
Uwe  I  replaced  the  candelabrum  in  its  former  position. 
/The  cause  of  my  deep  agitation  being  thus  shut  from 
[vlewl  I  sought  eagerly  the  volume  which  discussed  the 
paintings  and  their  histories.  Turning  to  the  number 
which  designated  the  oval  portrait,  I  there  read  the 
vague  and  quaint  words  which  follow: 

"  She  was  a  maiden  of  rarest  beauty,  and  not  more 
lovely  than  full  of  glee.  And  evil  was  the  hour  when 
she  saw,  and  loved,  and  wedded  the  painter.  He, 
passionate,  studious,  austere,  and  having  already  a 
bride  in  his  art:  she  a  maiden  of  rarest  beauty,  and 
not  more  lovely  than  full  of  glee ;  all  light  and  smiles, 
and  frolicsome  as  the  young  fawn ;  loving  and  cherish 
ing  all  things ;  hating  only  the  art  which  was  her  rival ; 
dreading  only  the  pallet  and  brushes  and  other  un 
toward  instruments  which  deprived  her  of  the  coun 
tenance  of  her  lover.  It  was  thus  a  terrible  thing  for 
this  lady  to  hear  the  painter  speak  of  his  desire  to 
portray  even  his  young  bride.  But  she  was  humble 

323 


The  Oval  Portrait 


and  obedient,  and  sat  meekly  for  many  weeks  in  th. 
dark,  high  turret-chamber  where  the  light  dripped  upoi 
the  pale  canvas  only  from  overhead.     But  he,  th< 
painter,  took  glory  in  his  work,  which  went  on  fron 
hour  to  hour,  and  from  day  to  day.     And  he  wai; 
a  passionate,  and  wild,  and  moody  man,  who  became 
lost  in  reveries;    so  that  he  would  not  see  that  th< 
light  which  fell  so  ghastly  in  that  lone  turret  witherec 
the  health  and  the  spirits  of  his  bride,  who  pinec 
visibly  to  all  but  him.     Yet  she  smiled  on  and  still  on 
uncomplainingly,  because  she  saw  that  the  painter  (whc 
had  high  renown)  took  a  fervid  and  burning  pleasure 
in  his  task,  and  wrought  day  and  night  to  depict  her 
who  so  loved  him,  yet  who  grew  daily  more  dispirited 
and  weak.     And  in  sooth  some  who  beheld  the  portrait 
spoke  of  its  resemblance  in  low  words,  as  of  a  mig 
marvel,  and  a  proof  not  less  of  the  power  of  the  paintef 
than  of  his  deep  love  for  her  whom  he  depicted  so 
surpassingly  well.     But  at  length,  as  the  labor  drew 
nearer  to  its  conclusion,  there  were  admitted  none  into 
the  turret;   for  the  painter  had  grown  wild  with  the 
ardor  of  his  work,  and  turned  his  eyes  from  the  canvas 
rarely,  even  to  regard  the  countenance  of  his  wife. 
And  he  would  not  see  that  the  tints  which  he  spread 
upon  the  canvas  were  drawn  from  the  cheeks  of  her 
who  sat  beside  him.     And  when  many  weeks  had 
passed,  and  but  little  remained  to  do,  save  one  brush 
upon  the  mouth  and  one  tint  upon  the  eye,  the  spirit 

324 


:•. 


THE  OVAL  PORTRAIT 

"  He  would  not  see  that  the  tints  which  he  spread  upon 
canvas  were  drawn  from  the  cheeks  iof  her  who  sat  beside 
him." 


The  Oval  Portrait 


of  the  lady  again  flickered  up  as  the  flame  within  the 
socket  of  the  lamp.  And  then  the  brush  was  given, 
and  then  the  tint  was  placed;  and,  for  one  moment, 
the  painter  stood  entranced  before  the  work  which  he 
had  wrought;  but  in  the  next,  while  he  yet  gazed, 
he  grew  tremulous  and  very  pallid,  and  aghast,  and 
crying  with  a  loud  voice,  *  This  is  indeed  Life  itself!  * 
turned  suddenly  to  regard  his  beloved:  —  She  was 
dead!" 


325 


The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death 


HE  "  Red  Death  "  had  long  devastated  the 
country.  No  pestilence  had  ever  been  so 
fatal,  or  so  hideous.  Blood  was  its  avatar 
and  its  seal — the  redness  and  the  horror  of  blood. 
There  were  sharp  pains  and  sudden  dizziness,  and 
then  profuse  bleeding  at  the  pores,  with  dissolution. 
The  scarlet  stains  upon  the  body,  and  especially  upon 
the  face  of  the  victim,  were  the  pest  ban  which  shut 
him  out  from  the  aid  and  from  the  sympathy  of  his 
fellow-men.  And  the  whole  seizure,  progress,  and 
termination  of  the  disease  were  the  incidents  of  half 
an  hour. 

But  the  Prince  Prospero  was  happy  and  dauntless 
and  sagacious.  When  his  dominions  were  half  de 
populated,  he  summoned  to  his  presence  a  thousand 
hale  and  light-hearted  friends  from  among  the  knights 
and  dames  of  his  court,  and  with  these  retired  to  the 
deep  seclusion  of  one  of  his  castellated  abbeys.  This 
was  an  extensive  and  magnificent  structure,  the 

326 


The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death 

creation  of  the  Prince's  own  eccentric  yet  august  taste. 
A  strong  and  lofty  wall  girdled  it  in.  This  wall  had 
gates  of  iron.  The  courtiers,  having  entered,  brought 
urnaces  and  massy  hammers,  and  welded  the  bolts. 
They  resolved  to  leave  means  neither  of  ingress  nor 
egress  to  the  sudden  impulses  of  despair  or  of  frenzy 
rom  within.  The  abbey  was  amply  provisioned. 
With  such  precautions  the  courtiers  might  bid  defiance 
to  contagion.  The  external  world  could  take  care  of 
tself.  In  the  meantime  it  was  folly  to  grieve,  or  to 
:hink.  The  prince  had  provided  all  the  appliances  of 
Measure.  There  were  buffoons,  there  were  improvisa- 
tori,  there  were  ballet-dancers,  there  were  musicians, 
there  was  beauty,  there  was  wine.  All  these  and 
security  were  within.  Without  was  the  "  Red  Death." 

It  was  toward  the  close  of  the  fifth  or  sixth  month  of 
lis  seclusion,  and  while  the  pestilence  raged  most 
uriously  abroad,  that  the  Prince  Prospero  entertained 
lis  thousand  friends  at  a  masked  ball  of  the  most  unus 
ual  magnificence. 

It  was  a  voluptuous  scene,  that  masquerade.  But 
first  let  me  tell  of  the  rooms  in  which  it  was  held. 
There  were  seven,  an  imperial  suite.  In  many  palaces, 
tiowever,  such  suites  form  a  long  and  straight  vista, 
while  the  folding  doors  slide  back  nearly  to  the  walls 
either  hand,  so  that  the  view  of  the  whole  extent 
is  scarcely  impeded.  Here  the  case  was  very  different ; 
as  might  have  been  expected  from  the  Prince's  love  of 

327 


The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death 

the  bizarre.  The  apartments  were  so  irregularly  dis 
posed  that  the  vision  embraced  but  little  more  thar 
one  at  a  time.  There  was  a  sharp  turn  at  every  twentj 
or  thirty  yards,  and  at  each  turn  a  novel  effect.  Tc 
the  right  and  left,  in  the  middle  of  each  wall,  a  tal 
and  narrow  Gothic  window  looked  out  upon  a  closec 
corridor  which  pursued  the  windings  of  the  suite 
These  windows  were  of  stained  glass  whose  color  variec 
in  accordance  with  the  prevailing  hue  of  the  decora 
tions  of  the  chamber  into  which  it  opened.  That  at  th( 
eastern  extremity  was  hung,  for  example,  in  blue,  anc 
vividly  blue  were  its  windows.  The  second  chambe: 
was  purple  in  its  ornaments  and  tapestries',  and  hen 
the  panes  were  purple.  The  third  was  green  through 
out,  and  so  were  the  casements.  The  fourth  wai 
furnished  and  lighted  with  orange,  the  fifth  witt 
white,  the  sixth  with  violet.  The  seventh  apartmen 
was  closely  shrouded  in  black  velvet  tapestries  tha: 
hung  all  over  the  ceiling  and  down  the  walls,  falling 
in  heavy  folds  upon  a  carpet  of  the  same  materia 
and  hue.  But  in  this  chamber,  only,  the  color  of  the 
windows  failed  to  correspond  with  the  decorations 
The  panes  here  were  scarlet,  a  deep  blood-color.  Nov 
in  no  one  of  the  seven  apartments  was  there  an] 
lamp  or  candelabrum,  amid  the  profusion  of  golder 
ornaments  that  lay  scattered  to  and  fro  or  dependec 
from  the  roof.  There  was  no  light  of  any  kind  emanat 
ing  from  lamp  or  candle  within  the  suite  of  chambers 

328 


The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death 

But  in  the  corridors  that  followed  the  suite  there  stood 
jpposite  to  each  window  a  heavy  tripod,  bearing  a 
)razier  of  fire,  that  projected  its  rays  through  the 
inted  glass  and  so  glaringly  illumined  the  room.  And 
,hus  were  produced  a  multitude  of  gaudy  and  fantastic 
ippearances.  But  in  the  western,  or  black,  chamber 
he  effect  of  the  firelight  that  streamed  upon  the  dark 
langings  through  the  blood-tinted  panes  was  ghastly 
n  the  extreme,  and  produced  so  wild  a  look  upon  the 
;ountenances  of  those  who  entered,  that  there  were 
iew  of  the  company  bold  enough  to  set  foot  within 
ts  precincts  at  all. 

It  was  hi  this  apartment,  also,  that  there  stood 
igainst  the  western  wall  a  gigantic  clock  of  ebony, 
.ts  pendulum  swung  to  and  fro  with  a  dull,  heavy, 
nonotonous  clang;  and  when  the  minute-hand  made 
he  circuit  of  the  face,  and  the  hour  was  to  be  stricken, 
here  came  from  the  brazen  lungs  of  the  clock  a  sound 
vhich  was  clear  and  loud  and  deep  and  exceedingly 
nusical,  but  of  so  peculiar  a  note  and  emphasis  that, 
it  each  lapse  of  an  hour,  the  musicians  of  the  orchestra 
yere  constrained  to  pause,  momentarily,  in  their  per- 
ormance,  to  hearken  to  the  sound;  and  thus  the 
valtzers  perforce  ceased  their  evolutions;  and  there 
vas  a  brief  disconcert  of  the  whole  gay  company; 
md  while  the  chimes  of  the  clock  yet  rang,  it  was 
•bserved  that  the  giddiest  grew  pale,  and  the  more 
Lged  and  sedate  passed  their  hands  over  their  brows 

329 


The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death 

as  if  in  confused  revery  or  meditation.     But  when  t 
p. 
echoes  had  fully  ceased  a  light  laughter  at  once  pe 

vaded  the  assembly;  the  musicians  looked  at  ea 
other  and  smiled  as  if  at  their  own  nervousness  ai 
folly,  and  made  whispering  vows,  each  to  the  othe 
that  the  next  chiming  of  the  clock  should  produce 
them  no  similar  emotion ;  and  then,  after  the  lapse 
sixty  minutes  (which  embrace  three  thousand  and  s 
hundred  seconds  of  the  time  that  flies),  there  came  y 
another  chiming  of  the  clock,  and  then  were  the  sam 
disconcert  and  tremulousness  and  meditation  as  befor 
But,  in  spite  of  these  things,  it  was  a  gay  and  ma 
nificent  revel.  The  tastes  of  the  Prince  were  peculi 
He  had  a  fine  eye  for  colors  and  effects.  He  disregard 
the  decora  of  mere  fashion.  His  plans  were  bold  ai 
fiery,  and  his  conceptions  glowed  with  barbaric  lustr 
There  are  some  who  would  have  thought  him  ma 
His  followers  felt  that  he  was  not.  It  was  necessa] 
to  hear  and  see  and  touch  him  to  be  sure  that  he  w 
not. 


THE  MASQUE  Or  THE  RED  DEATH 

"  There  was  much  of  the  beautiful,  much  of  the  wanton,  much 
of  the  bizarre,  something  of  the  terrible,  and  not  a  little  of  that 
which  might  have  excited  disgust." 


The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death 

were  delirious  fancies  such  as  the  madman  fashions. 
There  was  much  of  the  beautiful,  much  of  the  wanton, 
much  of  the  bizarre,  something  of  the  terrible,  and 
not  a  little  of  that  which  might  have  excited  disgust. 
To  and  fro  in  the  seven  chambers  there  stalked,  hi 
fact,  a  multitude  of  dreams.  And  these,  the  dreams, 
writhed  in  and  about,  taking  hue  from  the  rooms, 
and  causing  the  wild  music  of  the  orchestra  to  seem 
as  the  echo  of  their  steps.  And  anon  there  strikes 
the  ebony  clock  which  stands  in  the  hall  of  the  velvet. 
And  then,  for  a  moment,  all  is  still,  and  all  is  silent  save 
the  voice  of  the  clock.  The  dreams  are  stiff-frozen  as 
they  stand.  But  the  echoes  of  the  chime  die  away, 
they  have  endured  but  an  instant,  and  a  light,  half- 
subdued  laughter  floats  after  them  as  they  depart. 
And  now  again  the  music  swells,  and  the  dreams  live 
and  writhe  to  and  fro  more  merrily  than  ever,  taking 
hue  from  the  many-tinted  windows  through  which 
stream  the  rays  from  the  tripods.  But  to  the  chamber 
which  lies  most  westwardly  of  the  seven  there  are  now 
none  of  the  maskers  who  venture;  for  the  night  is 
waning  away;  and  there  flows  a  ruddier  light  through 
the  blood-colored  panes;  and  the  blackness  of  the 
sable  drapery  appalls;  and  to  him  whose  foot  falls 
upon  the  sable  carpet  there  comes  from  the  near 
clock  of  ebony  a  muffled  peal  more  solemnly  em 
phatic  than  any  which  reaches  their  ears  who  indulge 
in  the  more  remote  gaieties  of  the  other  apartments. 

33' 


The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death 

But  these  other  apartments  were  densely  crowded, 
and  in  them  beat  feverishly  the  heart  of  life.  And  the 
revel  went  whirlingly  on,  until  at  length  there  com 
menced  the  sounding  of  midnight  upon  the  clock. 
And  then  the  music  ceased,  as  I  have  told;  and  the 
evolutions  of  the  waltzers  were  quieted;  and  there 
was  an  uneasy  cessation  of  all  things  as  before.  But 
now  there  were  twelve  strokes  to  be  sounded  by  the 
bell  of  the  clock;  and  thus  it  happened,  perhaps,  that 
more  of  thought  crept,  with  more  of  time,  into  the 
meditations  of  the  thoughtful  among  those  who  rev 
elled.  And  thus,  too,  it  happened,  perhaps,  that 
before  the  last  echoes  of  the  last  chime  had  utterly 
sunk  into  silence,  there  were  many  individuals  in  the 
crowd  who  had  found  leisure  to  become  aware  of 
the  presence  of  a  masked  figure  which  had  arrested 
the  attention  of  no  single  individual  before.  And  the 
rumor  of  this  new  presence  having  spread  itself  whis- 
peringly  around,  there  arose  at  length  from  the  whole 
company  a  buzz,  or  murmur,  expressive  of  disappro 
bation  and  surprise;  then,  finally,  of  terror,  of  horror, 
and  of  disgust. 

In  an  assembly  of  phantasms  such  as  I  have  painted, 
it  may  well  be  supposed  that  no  ordinary  appearance 
could  have  excited  such  sensation.  In  truth,  the  mas 
querade  license  of  the  night  was  nearly  unlimited; 
but  the  figure  in  question  had  out-Heroded  Herod, 
and  gone  beyond  the  bounds  of  even  the  Prince's  in- 

332 


The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death 

definite  decorum.  There  are  chords  in  the  hearts  of 
the  most  reckless  which  cannot  be  touched  without 
emotion.  Even  with  the  utterly  lost,  to  whom  life 
and  death  are  equally  jests,  there  are  matters  of  which 
no  jest  can  be  made.  The  whole  company,  indeed, 
seemed  now  deeply  to  feel  that  in  the  costume  and 
bearing  of  the  stranger  neither  wit  nor  propriety  ex 
isted.  The  figure  was  tall  and  gaunt,  and  shrouded 
from  head  to  foot  in  the  habiliments  of  the  grave. 
The  mask  which  concealed  the  visage  was  made  so 
nearly  to  resemble  the  countenance  of  a  stiffened  corpse 
that  the  closest  scrutiny  must  have  had  difficulty  hi 
detecting  the  cheat.  And  yet  all  this  might  have  been 
endured,  if  not  approved,  by  the  mad  revellers  around. 
But  the  mummer  had  gone  so  far  as  to  assume  the 
type  of  the  Red  Death.  His  vesture  was  dabbled  in 
blood,  and  his  broad  brow,  with  all  the  features  of  the 
face,  was  besprinkled  with  the  scarlet  horror. 

When  the  eyes  of  Prince  Prospero  fell  upon  this 
spectral  image  (which,  with  a  slow  and  solemn  move 
ment,  as  if  more  fully  to  sustain  its  role,  stalked  to 
and  fro  among  the  waltzers)  he  was  seen  to  be  con 
vulsed,  in  the  first  moment,  with  a  strong  shudder 
either  of  terror  or  distaste ;  but,  in  the  next,  his  brow 
reddened  with  rage. 

"  Who  dares  "  he  demanded  hoarsely  of  the  courtiers 
who  stood  near  him, — "  who  dares  insult  us  with  this 
blasphemous  mockery  ?  Seize  him  and  unmask  him, 

333 


The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death 

that  we  may  know  whom  we  have  to  hang,  at  sunrise 
from  the  battlements !  " 

It  was  in  the  eastern,  or  blue  chamber  in  which  stooc 
the  Prince  Prospero  as  he  uttered  these  words.  Thej 
rang  throughout  the  seven  rooms  loudly  and  clearly 
for  the  Prince  was  a  bold  and  robust  man,  and  th< 
music  had  become  hushed  at  the  waving  of  his  hand. 

It  was  in  the  blue  room  where  stood  the  Prince,  witl 
a  group  of  pale  courtiers  by  his  side.  At  first,  as  hi 
spoke,  there  was  a  slight  rushing  movement  of  thi: 
group  in  the  direction  of  the  intruder,  who  at  th< 
moment  was  also  near  at  hand,  and  now,  with  deliber 
ate  and  stately  step,  made  closer  approach  to  tin 
speaker.  But  from  a  certain  nameless  awe  witl 
which  the  mad  assumptions  of  the  mummer  had  in 
spired  the  whole  party,  there  were  found  none  wh< 
put  forth  hand  to  seize  him;  so  that,  unimpeded,  he 
passed  within  a  yard  of  the  Prince's  person ;  and  whili 
the  vast  assembly,  as  if  with  one  impulse,  shranl 
from  the  centres  of  the  rooms  to  the  walls,  he  mad* 
his  way  uninterruptedly,  but  with  the  same  solemi 
and  measured  step  which  had  distinguished  him  fron 
the  first,  through  the  blue  chamber  to  the  purple 
through  the  purple  to  the  green,  through  the  green  t< 
the  orange,  through  this  again  to  the  white,  and  evei 
thence  to  the  violet,  ere  a  decided  movement  had  beei 
made  to  arrest  him.  It  was  then,  however,  that  tto 
Prince  Prospero,  maddening  with  rage  and  the  sham 


The  Masque  of  the  Red  Death 

*  his  own  momentary  cowardice,  rushed  hurriedly 
hrough  the  six  chambers,  while  none  followed  him 
Dn  account  of  a  deadly  terror  that  had  seized  upon 
all.  He  bore  aloft  a  drawn  dagger,  and  had  approached 
in  rapid  impetuosity  to  within  three  or  four  feet  of  the 
retreating  figure,  when  the  latter,  having  attained  the 
extremity  of  the  velvet  apartment,  turned  suddenly 
and  confronted  his  pursuer.  There  was  a  sharp  cry, 
and  the  dagger  dropped  gleaming  upon  the  sable  car 
pet,  upon  which,  instantly  afterward,  fell  prostrate  in 
death  the  Prince  Prospero.  Then,  summoning  the 
wild  courage  of  despair,  a  throng  of  revellers  at  once 
threw  themselves  into  the  black  apartment,  and,  seizing 
the  mummer,  whose  tall  figure  stood  erect  and 
motionless  within  the  shadow  of  the  ebony  clock, 
gasped  in  unutterable  horror  at  finding  the  grave-cere 
ments  and  corpse-like  mask,  which  they  handled  with 
so  violent  a  rudeness,  untenanted  by  any  tangible  form. 
And  now  was  acknowledged  the  presence  of  the  Red 
Death.  He  had  come  like  a  thief  in  the  night.  And 
one  by  one  dropped  the  revellers  in  the  blood-bedewed 
halls  of  their  revel,  and  died  each  in  the  despairing 
posture  of  his  fall.  And  the  life  of  the  ebony  clock 
went  out  with  that  of  the  last  of  the  gay.  And  the 
flames  of  the  tripods  expired.  And  Darkness  and  Decay 
and  the  Red  Death  held  illimitable  dominion  over  all. 


,335 


THE  BLACK  CAT 

"  Upon  its  head,  with  red,  extended  mouth  and  solitary  eye  of 
fire,  sat  the  hideous  beast." 


TALES 


Contents 


The  Gold-Bug 

Black  Cat 
The  Spectacles 
Diddling 
A  Tale  of  the  ] 

Balloon-Hoax 
Mesmeric  Revelation 
The  Premature  Burial 
The  Oblong  Box 


[arie  Roget 
>endulum  *-       . 
artv^~.         .         . 

£ged  Mountains 
x 
tion   .         .        . 
urial          .        . 
... 

PAGE 
...          I 

.     81 
.106 

.  115 
.  172 
.  188 
.  228 
.  245 
.  262 
.  283 
.        .        .  300 
.  323 

111 


List  of  Illustrations 

PAGE 
The  Black  Cat   .         .         .         .         .  Frontispiece 

"  Upon  its  head,  with  red,  extended  mouth 
and  solitary  eye  of  fire,  sat  the  hideous  beast." 

The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget        .         .         .         .70 

"  He  tore  it,  made  it  fast  about  the  neck,  and 
so  dragged  his  victim  to  the  brink  of  the  river." 

The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget        ....       76 

"  There,  at  some  obscure  wharf,  he  would 
have  leaped  on  land-'' 

The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum          ....       96 
"  Down — steadily  down  it  crept." 

The  Tell-Tale  Heart no 

"  I  then  took  up  three  planks  from  the  floor 
ing  of  the  chamber,  and  deposited  all  between 
the  scantlings." 

The  Gold  Bug 120 

"  Here  again  he  made  an  anxious  examination 
of  the  paper." 

The  Spectacles 222 

"  Meantime  I  sank  aghast  into  the  chair  which 
she  had  vacated." 


List  of  Illustrations 


PAGE 

A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains         .        .        .    250 

"  There  came  a  wild,  jingling  sound,  as  if  of 
a  bunch  of  large  keys,  and  upon  the  instant  a 
dusky-visaged,  half-naked  man  rushed  past  me 
with  a  shriek." 

Mesmeric  Revelation  .....    286 

"  A  few  passes  threw  Mr.  Vankirk  into  the 
mesmeric  sleep." 

The  Premature  Burial         .        .        .        .        .     314 
Premature  Burial. 

The  Oblong  Box 338 

"  In  another  instant  both  body  and  box  were  in 
the  sea." 

The  Oblong  Box 340 

"  They  will  soon  rise  again,  however,  but  not 
till  the  salt  melts." 


VI 


TALES 

VOL.    II. 

PART   II. 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

A  SEQUEL  TO    "  THE  MURDERS  IN  THE    RUE 
MORGUE." 

Es  giebt  eine  Reihe  idealischer  Begebenheiten,  die  der  Wirk- 
lichkeit  parallel  lauft.  Selten  fa'len  sie  zusammen.  Men- 
schen  und  Zufalle  modificiren  gewohnlich  die  idealische 
Begebenheit,  so  dass  sie  unvollkommen  erscheint,  und 
ihre  Folgen  gleichfalls  unvollkommen  sind.  So  bei  der 
Reformation;  statt  des  Protestantismus  kam  las  Luther- 
thum  hervor. 

There  are  ideal  series  of  events  which  run  parallel  with  the 
real  ones.  They  rarely  coincide.  Men  and  circumstances 
generally  modify  the  ideal  train  of  events,  so  that  it  seems 
imperfect,  and  its  consequences  are  equally  imperfect. 
Thus  with  the  Reformation;  instead  of  Protestantism 
came  Lutheranism. — NOVALIS  (nom  de  plume  of  Von  Har- 
denburg) .  Moratische  Ansichten, 


HERE    are    few   persons,    even    among   the 
calmest  thinkers,  who  have  not  occasionally 
been  startled  into  a  vague  yet  thrilling  half- 
credence  in  the  supernatural    by  coincidences  of  so 

1  Upon  the  original  publication  of    Matk   Roget,  the   foot-notes   now  ap 
pended  were  considered  unnecessary;    but  the  lapse  of  s»"etal  years  since 


VOL.  v. — i. 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

seemingly  marvellous  a  character  that,  as  mere  coin 
cidences,  the  intellect  has  been  unable  to  receive  them. 
Such  sentiments,  for  the  half-credences  of  which  I  speak 
have  never  the  full  force  of  thought, — such  sentiments 
are  seldom  thoroughly  stifled  unless  by  reference 
to  the  doctrine  of  chance,  or,  as  it  is  technically 
termed,  the  Calculus  of  Probabilities.  Now  this  cal 
culus  is,  in  its  essence,  purely  mathematical;  and 
thus  we  have  the  anomaly  of  the  most  rigidly  exact  in 
science  applied  to  the  shadow  and  spirituality  of  the 
most  tangible  in  speculation. 

The  extraordinary  details  which  I  am  now  called 
upon  to  make  public  will  be  found  to  form,  as  regards 
sequence  of  time,  the  primary  branch  of  a  series  of 
scarcely  intelligible  coincidences,  whose  secondary  or 
concluding  branch  will  be  recognized  by  all  readers 


the  tragedy  upon  which  the  taie  is  based,  renders  it  expedient  to  give  them, 
and  also  to  say  a  few  words  in  explanation  of  the  general  design.  A  young 
girl,  Mary  Cecilia  Rogers,  was  murdered  in  the  vicinity  of  New  York;  and, 
although  her  death  occasioned  an  intense  and  long-enduring  excitement,  the 
mystery  attending  it  had  remained  unsolved  at  the  period  when  the  present 
paper  was  written  and  published  (November,  1842).  Herein,  under  pretence 
of  relating  the  fate  of  a  Parisian  griscttc,  the  author  has  followed,  in  minute 
detail,  the  essential,  while  merely  paralleling  the  inessential,  facts  of  the  real 
murder  of  Mary  Rogers.  Thus  all  argument  founded  upon  the  fiction  is  ap 
plicable  to  the  truth:  and  the  investigation  of  the  truth  was  the  object. 

The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget  was  composed  at  a  distance  from  the  scene 
of  the  atrocity,  and  with  no  other  means  of  investigation  than  the  newspapers 
afforded.  Thus  much  escaped  the  writer  of  which  he  could  have  availed 
himself  had  he  been  upon  the  spot  and  visited  the  localities.  It  may  not  be 
improper  to  •  ecord,  nevertheless,  that  the  confessions  of  two  persons  (one 
of  them  the  Madame  Deluc  of  the  narrative),  made,  at  different  periods, 
long  subseq  aent  to  the  publication,  confirmed,  in  full,  not  only  the  general 
inclusion  but  absolutely  all  the  chief  hypothetical  details  by  which  th?A 
conclusion  was  attained. 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog£t 

in  the  late  murder  of  Mary  Cecilia  Rogers,  at  New 
York. 

When,  in  an  article  entitled  The  Murders  in  the  Rue 
Morgue,  I  endeavored,  about  a  year  ago,  to  depict  some 
very  remarkable  features  in  the  mental  character  of  my 
friend,  the  Chevalier  C.  Auguste  Dupin,  it  did  not  occur 
to  me  that  I  should  ever  resume  the  subject.  This 
depicting  of  character  constituted  my  design;  and 
this  design  was  thoroughly  fulfilled  in  the  wild  train 
of  circumstances  brought  to  instance  Dupin's  idiosyn 
crasy.  I  might  have  adduced  other  examples,  but  I 
should  have  proven  no  more.  Late  events,  however, 
in  their  surprising  development,  have  startled  me  into 
some  further  details,  which  will  carry  with  them  the 
air  of  extorted  confession.  Hearing  what  I  have 
lately  heard,  it  would  be  indeed  strange  should  I 
remain  silent  in  regard  to  what  I  both  heard  and  saw 
so  long  ago. 

Upon  the  winding  up  of  the  tragedy  involved  in  the 
deaths  of  Madame  L'Espanaye  and  her  daughter,  the 
Chevalier  dismissed  the  affair  at  once  from  his  attention 
and  relapsed  into  his  old  habits  of  moody  revery. 
Prone,  at  all  times,  to  abstraction,  I  readily  fell  in 
with  his  humor;  and,  continuing  to  occupy  our  cham 
bers  in  the  Faubourg  Saint  Germain,  we  gave  the 
future  to  the  winds,  and  slumbered  tranquilly  in  the 
present,  weaving  the  dull  world  around  us  into  dreams. 

But  these  dreams  were  not  altogether  uninterrupted. 
3 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog6t 

It  may  readily  be  supposed  that  the  part  played  by  my 
friend  in  the  drama  at  the  Rue  Morgue  had  not  failed 
of  its  impression  upon  the  fancies  of  the  Parisian 
police.  With  its  emissaries,  the  name  of  Dupin  had 
grown  into  a  household  word.  The  simple  character 
of  those  inductions  by  which  he  had  disentangled  the 
mystery  never  having  been  explained  even  to  the  Pre 
fect,  or  to  any  other  individual  than  myself,  of  course 
it  is  not  surprising  that  the  affair  was  regarded  as 
little  less  than  miraculous,  or  that  the  Chevalier's 
analytical  abilities  acquired  for  him  the  credit  of  in 
tuition.  His  frankness  would  have  led  him  to  disabuse 
every  inquirer  of  such  prejudice;  but  his  indolent 
humor  forbade  all  further  agitation  of  a  topic  whose 
interest  to  himself  had  long  ceased.  It  thus  happened 
that  he  found  himself  the  cynosure  of  the  policial  eyes ; 
and  the  cases  were  not  few  in  which  attempt  was  made 
to  engage  his  services  at  the  Prefecture.  One  of  the 
most  remarkable  instances  was  that  of  the  murder  of 
a  young  girl  named  Marie  Roget. 

This  event  occurred  about  two  years  after  the  atro 
city  in  the  Rue  Morgue.  Marie,  whose  Christian  and 
family  name  will  at  once  arrest  attention  from  their 
resemblance  to  those  of  the  unfortunate  "  cigar-girl," 
was  the  only  daughter  of  the  widow  Estelle  Roget. 
The  father  had  died  during  the  child's  infancy,  and 
from  the  period  of  his  death,  until  within  eighteen 
months  before  the  assassination  which  forms  the  sub- 

4 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

ject  of  our  narrative,  the  mother  and  daughter  had 
dwelt  together  in  the  Rue  Pavee  Saint  Andre*,  * 
Madame  there  keeping  a  pension,  assisted  by  Marie. 
Affairs  went  on  thus  until  the  latter  had  attained  her 
twenty-second  year,  when  her  great  beauty  attracted 
the  notice  of  a  perfumer,  who  occupied  one  of  the 
shops  in  the  basement  of  the  Palais  Royal,  and  whose 
custom  lay  chiefly  among  the  desperate  adventurers 
infesting  that  neighborhood.  Monsieur  Le  Blanc 2 
was  not  unaware  of  the  advantages  to  be  derived  from 
the  attendance  of  the  fair  Marie  hi  his  perfumery ;  and 
his  liberal  proposals  were  accepted  eagerly  by  the  girl, 
although  with  somewhat  more  of  hesitation  by 
Madame. 

The  anticipations  of  the  shopkeeper  were  realized, 
and  his  rooms  soon  became  notorious  through  the 
charms  of  the  sprightly  grisette.  She  had  been  hi  his 
employ  about  a  year,  when  her  admirers  were  thrown 
into  confusion  by  her  sudden  disappearance  from  the 
shop.  Monsieur  Le  Blanc  was  unable  to  account  for 
her  absence,  and  Madame  Roget  was  distracted  with 
anxiety  and  terror.  The  public  papers  immediately 
took  up  the  theme,  and  the  police  were  upon  the  point  of 
making  serious  investigations,  when,  one  fine  morning, 
after  the  lapse  of  a  week,  Marie,  in  good  health,  but 
with  a  somewhat  saddened  air,  made  her  reappearance 

1  Nassau  Street. 
*  Anderson. 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

at  her  usual  counter  in  the  perfumery.  All  inquiry, 
except  that  of  a  private  character,  was  of  course  im 
mediately  hushed.  Monsieur  Le  Blanc  professed  total 
ignorance,  as  before.  Marie,  with  Madame,  replied  to 
all  questions  that  the  last  week  had  been  spent  at 
the  house  of  a  relation  in  the  country.  Thus  the 
affair  died  away,  and  was  generally  forgotten;  for 
the  girl,  ostensibly  to  relieve  herself  from  the  impert 
inence  of  curosity,  soon  bade  a  final  adieu  to  the 
perfumer,  and  sought  the  shelter  of  her  mother's 
residence  in  the  Rue  Pavee  Saint  Andre*. 

It  was  about  five  months  after  this  return  home, 
that  her  friends  were  alarmed  by  her  sudden  disap 
pearance  for  the  second  time.  Three  days  elapsed, 
and  nothing  was  heard  of  her.  On  the  fourth  her 
corpse  was  found  floating  in  the  Seine,1  near  the  shore 
which  is  opposite  the  Quartier  of  the  Rue  Saint  Andre", 
and  at  a  point  not  very  far  distant  from  the  secluded 
neighborhood  of  the  Barriere  du  Roule.2 

The  atrocity  of  this  murder  (for  it  was  at  once 
evident  that  murder  had  been  committed),  the  youth 
and  beauty  of  the  victim,  and,  above  all,  her  previous 
notoriety,  conspired  to  produce  intense  excitement  hi 
the  minds  of  the  sensitive  Parisians.  I  can  call  to 
mind  no  similar  occurrence  producing  so  general  and 
so  intense  an  effect.  For  several  weeks,  in  the  dis- 

1  The  Hudson. 
3  Weehawken. 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

cussion  of  this  one  absorbing  theme,  even  the  momen* 
tous  political  topics  of  the  day  were  forgotten.  The 
Prefect  made  unusual  exertions;  and  the  powers  of 
the  whole  Parisian  police  were,  of  course,  tasked  to 
the  utmost  extent. 

Upon  the  first  discovery  of  the  corpse,  it  was  not 
supposed  that  the  murderer  would  be  able  to  elude, 
for  more  than  a  very  brief  period,  the  inquisition 
which  was  immediately  set  on  foot.  It  was  not  until 
the  expiration  of  a  week  that  it  was  deemed  necessary 
to  offer  a  reward ;  and  even  then  this  reward  was  limited 
to  a  thousand  francs.  In  the  meantime  the  investi 
gation  proceeded  with  vigor,  if  not  always  with  judg 
ment,  and  numerous  individuals  were  examined  to  no 
purpose ;  while,  owing  to  the  continual  absence  of  all 
clew  to  the  mystery,  the  popular  excitement  greatly 
increased.  At  the  end  of  the  tenth  day  it  was  thought 
advisable  to  double  the  sum  originally  proposed ;  and, 
at  length,  the  second  week  having  elapsed  without 
leading  to  any  discoveries,  and  the  prejudice  which 
always  exists  in  Paris  against  the  police  having  given 
vent  to  itself  in  several  serious  emeutes,  the  Prefect 
took  it  upon  himself  to  offer  the  sum  of  twenty  thou 
sand  francs  "  for  the  conviction  of  the  assassin,"  or3 
if  more  than  one  should  prove  to  have  been  implicated, 
"  for  the  conviction  of  any  one  of  the  assassins."  In 
the  proclamation  setting  forth  this  reward  a  full  par 
don  was  promised  to  any  accomplice  who  should  come 

7 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

forward  in  evidence  against  his  fellow ;  and  to  the  whole 
was  appended,  wherever  it  appeared,  the  private  pla 
card  of  a  committee  of  citizens,  offering  ten  thousand 
francs  in  addition  to  the  amount  proposed  by  the 
Prefecture.  The  entire  reward  thus  stood  at  no  less 
than  thirty  thousand  francs,  which  will  be  regarded  as 
an  extraordinary  sum  when  we  consider  the  humble 
condition  of  the  girl,  and  the  great  frequency,  in  large 
cities,  of  such  atrocities  as  the  one  described. 

No  one  doubted  now  that  the  mystery  of  this  murder 
would  be  immediately  brought  to  light.  But  although, 
in  one  or  two  instances,  arrests  were  made  which 
promised  elucidation,  yet  nothing  was  elicited  which 
could  implicate  the  parties  suspected;  and  they  were 
discharged  forthwith.  Strange  as  it  may  appear,  the 
third  week  from  the  discovery  of  the  body  had  passed, 
and  passed  without  any  light  being  thrown  upon  the 
subject,  before  even  a  rumor  of  the  events  which  had 
so  agitated  the  public  mind  reached  the  ears  of  Dupin 
and  myself.  Engaged  in  researches  which  had  ab 
sorbed  our  whole  attention,  it  had  been  nearly  a  month 
since  either  of  us  had  gone  abroad,  or  received  a  visitor, 
or  more  than  glanced  at  the  leading  political  articles 
in  one  of  the  daily  papers.  The  first  intelligence  of 

the  murder  was  brought  us  by  G ,  in  person.     He 

called  upon  us  early  in  the  afternoon  of  the  thirteenth 
of  July,  1 8 — ,  and  remained  with  us  until  late  in  the 
night.  He  had  been  piqued  by  the  failure  of  all  his 

8 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roggt 

endeavors  to  ferret  out  the  assassins.  His  reputation, 
so  he  said  with  a  peculiarly  Parisian  air,  was  at  stake. 
Even  his  honor  was  concerned.  The  eyes  of  the  public 
were  upon  him ;  and  there  was  really  no  sacrifice  which 
he  would  not  be  willing  to  make  for  the  development  of 
the  mystery.  He  concluded  a  somewhat  droll  speech 
with  a  compliment  upon  what  he  was  pleased  to  term 
the  "  tact "  of  Dupin,  and  made  him  a  direct  and  cer 
tainly  a  liberal  proposition,  the  precise  nature  of  which 
I  do  not  feel  myself  at  liberty  to  disclose,  but  which  has 
no  bearing  upon  the  proper  subject  of  my  narrative. 

The  compliment  my  friend  rebutted  as  best  he  could, 
but  the  proposition  he  accepted  at  once,  although  its 
advantages  were  altogether  provisional.  This  point 
being  settled,  the  Prefect  broke  forth  at  once  into 
explanations  of  his  own  views,  interspersing  them  with 
long  comments  upon  the  evidence ;  of  which  latter  we 
were  not  yet  hi  possession.  He  discoursed  much  and, 
beyond  doubt,  learnedly;  while  I  hazarded  an  occa 
sional  suggestion  as  the  night  wore  drowsily  away. 
Dupin,  sitting  steadily  hi  his  accustomed  armchair, 
was  the  embodiment  of  respectful  attention.  He  wore 
spectacles  during  the  whole  interview;  and  an  oc 
casional  glance  beneath  their  green  glasses  sufficed  to 
convince  me  that  he  slept  not  the  less  soundly,  because 
silently,  throughout  the  seven  or  eight  leaden-footed 
hours  which  immediately  preceded  the  departure  of 
the  Prefect. 

9 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

In  the  morning,  I  procured,  at  the  Prefecture,  a  full 
report  of  all  the  evidence  elicited,  and,  at  the  various 
newspaper  offices,  a  copy  of  every  paper  in  which,  from 
first  to  last,  had  been  published  any  decisive  information 
in  regard  to  this  sad  affair.  Freed  from  all  that  was 
positively  disproved,  this  mass  of  information  stood 
thus: 

Marie  Roget  left  the  residence  of  her  mother,  hi  the 
Rue  Pavee  St.  Andre,  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  morn 
ing  of  Sunday,  June  the  twenty-second,  18 — .  In  go 
ing  out,  she  gave  notice  to  a  Monsieur  Jacques  St. 
Eustache,1  and  to  him  only,  of  her  intention  to  spend 
the  day  with  an  aunt,  who  resided  in  the  Rue  des 
Dromes.  The  Rue  des  Dromes  is  a  short  and  narrow 
but  populous  thoroughfare,  not  far  from  the  banks  of 
the  river,  and  at  a  distance  of  some  two  miles,  in  the 
most  direct  course  possible,  from  the  pension  of  • 
Madame  Roget.  St.  Eustache  was  the  accepted  suitor 
of  Marie,  and  lodged,  as  well  as  took  his  meals,  at  the 
pension,  He  was  to  have  gone  for  his  betrothed  at 
dusk,  and  to  have  escorted  her  home.  In  the  after 
noon,  however,  it  came  on  to  rain  heavily;  and,  sup 
posing  that  she  would  remain  all  night  at  her  aunt's 
(as  she  had  done  under  similar  circumstances  before), 
he  did  not  think  it  necessary  to  keep  his  promise. 
As  night  drew  on,  Madame  Roget  (who  was  an  infirm 
old  lady,  seventy  years  of  age)  was  heard  to  express  a 

1  Payne. 

IO 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

fear  that  she  should  never  see  Marie  again;  but  this 
observation  attracted  little  attention  at  the  time. 

On  Monday  it  was  ascertained  that  the  girl  had  not 
been  to  the  Rue  des  Dromes;  and  when  the  day 
elapsed  without  tidings  of  her,  a  tardy  search  was 
instituted  at  several  points  hi  the  city  and  its  environs. 
It  was  not,  however,  until  the  fourth  day  from  the 
period  of  her  disappearance  that  anything  satisfac 
tory  was  ascertained  respecting  her.  On  this  day 
(Wednesday,  the  twenty-fifth  of  June)  a  Monsieur 
Beauvais, l  who,  with  a  friend,  had  been  making  in 
quiries  for  Marie  near  the  Barriere  du  Roule,  on  the 
shore  of  the  Seine  which  is  opposite  the  Rue  Pavee  St. 
Andre,  was  informed  that  a  corpse  had  just  been  towed 
ashore  by  some  fishermen,  who  had  found  it  floating 
in  the  river.  Upon  seeing  the  body,  Beauvais,  after 
some,  hesitation,  identified  it  as  that  of  the  perfumery- 
girl.  His  friend  recognized  it  more  promptly. 

The  face  was  suffused  with  dark  blood,  some  of 
which  issued  from  the  mouth.  No  foam  was  seen,  as 
in  the  case  of  the  merely  drowned.  There  was  no 
discoloration  in  the  cellular  tissue.  About  the  throat 
were  bruises  and  impressions  of  fingers.  The  arms 
were  bent  over  on  the  chest,  and  were  rigid.  The 
right  hand  was  clenched ;  the  left  partially  open.  On 
the  left  wrist  were  two  circular  excoriations,  apparently 
the  effect  of  ropes,  or  of  a  rope  in  more  than  one 

1  Crommelin. 

II 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

volution.  A  part  of  the  right  wrist,  also,  was  much 
chafed,  as  well  as  the  back  throughout  its  extent,  but 
more  especially  at  the  shoulder-blades.  In  bringing 
the  body  to  the  shore  the  fishermen  had  attached  to  it 
a  rope,  but  none  of  the  excoriations  had  been  effected 
by  this.  The  flesh  of  the  neck  was  much  swollen. 
There  were  no  cuts  apparent,  or  bruises  which  appeared 
the  effect  of  blows.  A  piece  of  lace  was  found  tied  so 
tightly  around  the  neck  as  to  be  hidden  from  sight; 
it  was  completely  buried  in  the  flesh,  and  was  fastened 
by  a  knot  which  lay  just  under  the  left  ear.  This  alone 
would  have  sufficed  to  produce  death.  The  medical 
testimony  spoke  confidently  of  the  virtuous  character 
of  the  deceased.  She  had  been  subjected,  it  said,  to 
brutal  violence.  The  corpse  was  in  such  condition 
when  found  that  there  could  have  been  no  difficulty  in 
its  recognition  by  friends. 

The  dress  was  much  torn  and  otherwise  disordered. 
In  the  outer  garment,  a  slip,  about  a  foot  wide,  had  been 
torn  upward  from  the  bottom  hem  to  the  waist,  but  not 
torn  off.  It  was  wound  three  times  around  the  waist, 
and  secured  by  a  sort  of  hitch  in  the  back.  The  dress 
immediately  beneath  the  frock  was  of  fine  muslin ;  and 
from  this  a  slip  eighteen  inches  wide  had  been  torn 
entirely  out,  torn  very  evenly  and  with  great  care.  It 
was  found  around  her  neck,  fitting  loosely,  and  secured 
with  a  hard  knot.  Over  this  muslin  slip  and  the  slip 
of  lace  the  strings  of  a  bonnet  were  attached,  the  bonnet 

12 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roge't 

being  appended.  The  knot  by  which  the  strings  of  the 
bonnet  were  fastened  was  not  a  lady's,  but  a  slip  or 
sailor's  knot. 

After  the  recognition  of  the  corpse,  it  was  not,  as 
usual,  taken  to  the  morgue  (this  formality  being  super 
fluous),  but  hastily  interred  not  far  from  the  spot  at 
which  it  was  brought  ashore.  Through  the  exertions 
of  Beauvais,  the  matter  was  industriously  hushed  up 
as  far  as  possible ;  and  several  days  had  elapsed  before 
any  public  emotion  resulted.  A  weekly  paper,1  how 
ever,  at  length  took  up  the  theme;  the  corpse  was 
disinterred,  and  a  re-examination  instituted;  but 
nothing  was  elicited  beyond  what  has  been  already 
noted.  The  clothes,  however,  were  now  submitted  to 
the  mother  and  friends  of  the  deceased,  and  fully 
identified  as  those  worn  by  the  girl  upon  leaving  home. 

Meantime,  the  excitement  increased  hourly.  Several 
individuals  were  arrested  and  discharged.  St.  Eu- 
stache  fell  especially  under  suspicion ;  and  he  failed,  at 
first,  to  give  an  intelligible  account  of  his  whereabouts 
during  the  Sunday  on  which  Marie  left  home.  Subse- 
quently,  however,  he  submitted  to  Monsieur  G ,  af 
fidavits  accounting  satisfactorily  for  every  hour  of 
the  day  in  question.  As  time  passed  and  no  discovery 
ensued,  a  thousand  contradictory  rumors  were  circu 
lated,  and  journalists  busied  themselves  in  suggestions. 
Among  these,  the  one  which  attracted  the  most  notice 

1  The  New  York  Metcurv. 

13 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

was  the  idea  that  Marie  Roget  still  lived;  that  the 
corpse  found  in  the  Seine  was  that  of  some  other  un 
fortunate.  It  will  be  proper  that  I  submit  to  the 
reader  some  passages  which  embody  the  suggestion 
alluded  to.  These  passages  are  literal  translations 
from  L'Etoile, l  a  paper  conducted,  in  general,  with 
much  ability. 

"  Mademoiselle  Roget  left  her  mother's  house  on 
Sunday  morning,  June  the  twenty-second,  18 — ,  with 
the  ostensible  purpose  of  going  to  see  her  aunt,  or  some 
other  connection,  in  the  Rue  des  Dromes.  From  that 
hour,  nobody  is  proved  to  have  seen  her.  There  is 
no  trace  or  tidings  of  her  at  all.  .  .  .  There  has 
no  person,  whatever,  come  forward  so  far,  who  saw 
her  at  all  on  that  day,  after  she  left  her  mother's  door. 
.  .  .  Now,  though  we  have  no  evidence  that  Marie 
Roget  was  hi  the  land  of  the  living  after  nine  o'clock 
on  Sunday,  June  the  twenty-second,  we  have  proof 
that,  up  to  that  hour,  she  was  alive.  On  Wednesday 
noon,  at  twelve,  a  female  body  was  discovered  afloat 
on  the  shore  of  the  Barriere  du  Roule.  This  was,  even 
if  we  presume  that  Marie  Roget  was  thrown  into  the 
river  within  three  hours  after  she  left  her  mother's 
house,  only  three  days  from  the  time  she  left  her  home, 
three  days  to  an  hour.  But  it  is  folly  to  suppose  that 
the  murder,  if  murder  was  committed  on  her  body, 
could  have  been  consummated  soon  enough  to  have 

1  The  New  York  Brother  Jonathan,  edited  by  H.  Hastings  Weld,  Esq. 

14 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

enabled  her  murderers  to  throw  the  body  into  the  river 
before  midnight.  Those  who  are  guilty  of  such  horrid 
crimes  choose  darkness  rather  than  light.  .  .  . 
Thus  we  see  that  if  the  body  found  hi  the  river  was 
that  of  Marie  Roget,  it  could  only  have  been  hi  the 
water  two  and  a  half  days,  or  three  at  the  outside. 
All  experience  has  shown  that  drowned  bodies,  or 
bodies  thrown  into  the  water  immediately  after  death 
by  violence,  require  from  six  to  ten  days  for  sufficient 
decomposition  to  take  place  to  bring  them  to  the  top 
of  the  water.  Even  where  a  cannon  is  fired  over  a 
corpse,  and  it  rises  before  at  least  five  or  six  days' 
immersion,  it  sinks  again,  if  let  alone.  Now,  we  ask, 
what  was  there  hi  this  case  to  cause  a  departure  from 
the  ordinary  course  of  nature  ?  .  .  .  If  the  body 
had  been  kept  hi  its  mangled  state  on  shore  until 
Tuesday  night,  some  trace  would  be  found  on  shore 
of  the  murderers.  It  is  a  doubtful  point,  also,  whether 
the  body  would  be  so  soon  afloat,  even  were  it  thrown 
in  after  having  been  dead  two  days.  And,  further 
more,  it  is  exceedingly  improbable  that  any  villains 
who  had  committed  such  a  murder  as  is  here  sup 
posed  would  have  thrown  the  body  in  without  weight 
to  sink  it,  when  such  a  precaution  could  have  so 
easily  been  taken." 

The  editor  here  proceeds  to  argue  that  the  body 
must  have  been  in  the  water  "  not  three  days  merely, 
but  at  least  five  times  three  days,"  because  it  was  so 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

far  decomposed  that  Beauvais  had  great  difficulty  in 
recognizing  it.  This  latter  point,  however,  was  fuliy 
disproved.  I  continue  the  translation : 

"  What,  then,  are  the  facts  on  which  M.  Beauvais 
says  that  he  has  no  doubt  the  body  was  that  of  Marie 
Roget  ?  He  ripped  up  the  gown  sleeve,  and  says  he 
found  marks  which  satisfied  him  of  the  identity.  The 
public  generally  supposed  those  marks  to  have  con 
sisted  of  some  description  of  scars.  He  rubbed  the 
arm  and  found  hair  upon  it — something  as  indefinite, 
we  think,  as  can  readily  be  imagined,  as  little  con 
clusive  as  finding  an  arm  in  the  sleeve.  M.  Beauvais 
did  not  return  that  night,  but  sent  word  to  Madame 
Roget,  at  seven  o'clock  on  Wednesday  evening,  that 
an  investigation  was  still  in  progress  respecting  her 
daughter.  If  we  allow  that  Madame  Roget,  from  her 
age  and  grief,  could  not  go  over  (which  is  allowing  a 
great  deal),  there  certainly  must  have  been  some  one 
who  would  have  thought  it  worth  while  to  go  over 
and  attend  the  investigation,  if  they  thought  the  body 
was  that  of  Marie.  Nobody  went  over.  There  was 
nothing  said  or  heard  about  the  matter  in  the  Rue 
Pave*e  St.  Andre*,  that  reached  even  the  occupants  of 
the  same  building.  M.  St.  Eustache,  the  lover  and 
intended  husband  of  Marie,  who  boarded  in  her 
mother's  house,  deposes  that  he  did  not  hear  of  the 
discovery  of  the  body  of  his  intended  until  the  next 
morning,  when  M.  Beauvais  came  into  his  chamber 

16 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

and  told  him  of  it.     For  an  item  of  news  like  this,  it 
strikes  us  it  was  very  coolly  received." 

In  this  way  the  journal  endeavored  to  create  the 
impression  of  an  apathy  on  the  part  of  the  relatives  of 
Marie,  inconsistent  with  the  supposition  that  these 
relatives  believed  the  corpse  to  be  hers.  Its  insinua 
tions  amount  to  this :  that  Marie,  with  the  connivance 
of  her  friends,  had  absented  herself  from  the  city  for 
reasons  involving  a  charge  against  her  chastity;  and 
that  these  friends,  upon  a  discovery  of  the  corpse  hi 
the  Seine,  somewhat  resembling  that  of  the  girl,  had 
availed  themselves  of  the  opportunity  to  impress  the 
public  with  the  belief  of  her  death.  But  L'Etoile 
was  again  overhasty.  It  was  distinctly  proved  that 
no  apathy,  such  as  was  imagined,  existed ;  that  the  old 
lady  was  exceedingly  feeble,  and  so  agitated  as  to  be 
unable  to  attend  to  any  duty;  that  St.  Eustache,  so 
far  from  receiving  the  news  coolly,  was  distracted 
with  grief,  and  bore  himself  so  frantically  that  M. 
Beauvais  prevailed  upon  a  friend  and  relative  to  take 
charge  of  him,  and  prevent  his  attending  the  examina 
tion  at  the  disinterment.  Moreover,  although  it  was 
stated  by  L'Etoile,  that  the  corpse  was  re-interred  at 
the  public  expense,  that  an  advantageous  offer  of  pri 
vate  sepulture  was  absolutely  declined  by  the  family, 
and  that  no  member  of  the  family  attended  the  cere 
monial, — although,  I  say,  all  this  was  asserted  by 
L'ctoile  in  furtherance  of  the  impression  it  designed 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

to  convey,  yet  all  this  was  satisfactorily  disproved. 
In  a  subsequent  number  of  the  paper,  an  attempt  was 
made  to  throw  suspicion  upon  Beauvais  himself.  The 
editor  says : 

"  Now,  then,  a  change  comes  over  the  matter.     We 

are  told  that,  on  one  occasion,  while  a  Madame  B 

was  at  Madame  Roget's  house,  M.  Beauvais,  who 
was  going  out,  told  her  that  a  gendarme  was  expected 
there,  and  that  she,  Madame  B ,  must  not  say  any 
thing  to  the  gendarme  until  he  returned,  but  let  the 
matter  be  for  him.  ...  In  the  present  posture 
of  affairs,  M.  Beauvais  appears  to  have  the  whole  mat 
ter  locked  up  in  his  head.  A  single  step  cannot  be 
taken  without  M.  Beauvais,  for,  go  which  way  you  will, 
you  run  against  him.  .  .  .  For  some  reason  he 
determined  that  nobody  shall  have  anything  to  do  with 
the  proceedings  but  himself,  and  he  has  elbowed  the 
male  relatives  out  of  the  way,  according  to  their  rep 
resentations,  in  a  very  singular  manner.  Hs  seems  to 
have  been  very  much  averse  to  permitting  the  relatives 
to  see  the  body." 

By  the  following  fact,  some  color  was  given  to  the 
suspicion  thus  thrown  upon  Beauvais.  A  visitor  at 
his  office,  a  few  days  prior  to  the  girl's  disappearance, 
and  during  the  absence  of  its  occupant,  had  observed 
a  rose  in  the  keyhole  of  the  door,  and  the  name 
"  Marie  "  inscribed  upon  a  slate  which  hung  near 
at  hand. 

18 


The  Mystery  of  Mane  Rog£t 

The  general  impression,  so  far  as  we  were  enabled 
to  glean  it  from  the  newspapers,  seemed  to  be  that 
Marie  had  been  the  victim  of  a  gang  of  desperadoes, 
that  by  these  she  had  been  borne  across  the  river, 
maltreated,  and  murdered.  Le  Commerciel,1  however, 
a  print  of  extensive  influence,  was  earnest  in  combating 
this  popular  idea.  I  quote  a  passage  or  two  from  its 
columns : 

"  We  are  persuaded  that  pursuit  has  hitherto  been 
on  a  false  scent,  so  far  as  it  has  been  directed  to 
the  Barriere  du  Roule.  It  is  impossible  that  a  person 
so  well  known  to  thousands  as  this  young  woman  was, 
should  have  passed  three  blocks  without  some  one  hav 
ing  seen  her;  and  any  one  who  saw  her  would  have 
remembered  it,  for  she  interested  all  who  knew 
her.  It  was  when  the  streets  were  full  of  people, 
that  she  went  out.  .  .  .  It  is  impossible  that 
she  could  have  gone  to  the  Barriere  du  Roule,  or  to 
the  Rue  des  Dromes,  without  being  recognized  by  a 
dozen  persons;  yet  no  one  has  come  forward  who 
saw  her  outside  her  mother's  door,  and  there  is  no 
evidence,  except  the  testimony  concerning  her  ex 
pressed  intentions,  that  she  did  go  out  at  all.  Her 
gown  was  torn,  bound  round  her,  and  tied;  and  by 
that  the  body  was  carried  as  a  bundle.  If  the  murder 
had  been  committed  at  the  Barriere  du  Roule,  there 
would  have  been  no  necessity  for  any  such  arrange- 

1  New  York  Journal  of  Commetcc, 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog6t 

ment.  The  fact  that  the  body  was  found  floating 
near  the  Barriere,  is  no  proof  as  to  where  it  was 
thrown  into  the  water.  ...  A  piece  of  one  of 
the  unfortunate  girl's  petticoats,  two  feet  long  and 
one  foot  wide,  was  torn  out  and  tied  under  her  chin 
around  the  back  of  her  head,  probably  to '  prevent 
screams.  This  was  done  by  fellows  who  had  no 
pocket-handkerchief." 

A  day  or  two  before  the  Prefect  called  upon  us, 
however,  some  important  information  reached  the 
police,  which  seemed  to  overthrow,  at  least,  the  chief 
portion  of  Le  Commerciel's  argument.  Two  small 
boys,  sons  of  a  Madame  Deluc,  while  roaming  among 
the  woods  near  the  Barriere  du  Roule,  chanced  to 
penetrate  a  close  thicket,  within  which  were  three  or 
four  large  stones,  forming  a  kind  of  seat  with  a  back 
and  footstool.  On  the  upper  stone  lay  a  white  petti 
coat;  on  the  second,  a  silk  scarf.  A  parasol,  gloves, 
and  a  pocket-handkerchief  were  also  here  found.  The 
handkerchief  bore  the  name  "  Marie  Roget."  Frag 
ments  of  dress  were  discovered  on  the  brambles  around. 
The  earth  was  trampled,  the  bushes  were  broken, 
and  there  was  every  evidence  of  a  struggle.  Between 
the  thicket  and  the  river,  the  fences  were  found  taken 
down,  and  the  ground  bore  evidence  of  some  heavy 
burden  having  been  dragged  along  it. 

A  weekly  paper,  Le  Soleil,1  had  the  following  com- 

1  Philadelphia  Saturday  Evening  Post  edited  by  C.  J.  Peterson,  Esq. 
2O 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog£t 

ments  upon  this  discovery — comments  which  merely 
echoed  the  sentiment  of  the  whole  Parisian  press: 

"  The  things  had  all  evidently  been  there  at  least 
three  or  four  weeks;  they  were  all  mildewed  down 
hard  with  the  action  of  the  rain,  and  stuck  together 
from  mildew.  The  grass  had  grown  around  and  over 
some  of  them.  The  silk  on  the  parasol  was  strong, 
but  the  threads  of  it  were  run  together  within.  The 
upper  part,  where  it  had  been  doubled  and  folded, 
was  all  mildewed  and  rotten,  and  tore  on  its  being 
opened.  .  .  .  The  pieces  of  her  frock  torn  out  by 
the  bushes  were  about  three  inches  wide  and  six  niches 
long.  One  part  was  the  hem  of  the  frock,  and  it  had 
been  mended;  the  other  piece  was  part  of  the  skirt, 
not  the  hem.  They  looked  like  strips  torn  off,  and 
were  on  the  thorn  bush,  about  a  foot  from  the  ground. 
.  .  .  There  can  be  no  doubt,  therefore,  that  the 
spot  of  this  appalling  outrage  has  been  discovered." 

Consequent  upon  this  discovery,  new  evidence  ap 
peared.  Madame  Deluc  testified  that  she  keeps  a 
roadside  inn  not  far  from  the  bank  of  the  river, 
opposite  the  Barriere  du  Roule.  The  neighborhood  is 
secluded,  particularly  so.  It  is  the  usual  Sunday  resort 
of  blackguards  from  the  city,  who  cross  the  river  hi 
boats.  About  three  o'clock,  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
Sunday  in  question,  a  young  girl  arrived  at  the  inn, 
accompanied  by  a  young  man  of  dark  complexion. 
The  two  remained  here  for  some  time.  On  their 

21 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

departure,  they  took  the  road  to  some  thick  woods  in 
the  vicinity.  Madame  Deluc's  attention  was  called  to 
the  dress  worn  by  the  girl,  on  account  of  its  resem 
blance  to  one  worn  by  a  deceased  relative.  A  scarf  was 
particularly  noticed.  Soon  after  the  departure  of  the 
couple,  a  gang  of  miscreants  made  their  appearance, 
behaved  boisterously,  ate  and  drank  without  making 
payment,  followed  in  the  route  of  the  young  man  and 
girl,  returned  to  the  inn  about  dusk,  and  recrossed  the 
river  as  if  in  great  haste. 

It  was  soon  after  dark,  upon  this  same  evening,  that 
Madame  Deluc,  as  well  as  her  eldest  son,  heard  the 
screams  of  a  female  in  the  vicinity  cf  the  inn.  The 
screams  were  violent  but  brief.  Madame  D recog 
nized  not  only  the  scarf  which  was  found  in  the  thicket, 
but  the  dress  which  was  discovered  upon  the  corpse. 
An  omnibus  driver,  Valence,1  now  also  testified  that 
he  saw  Marie  Roget  cross  a  ferry  on  the  Seine,  on 
the  Sunday  in  question,  in  company  with  a  young 
man  of  dark  complexion.  He,  Valence,  knew  Marie, 
and  could  not  be  mistaken  in  her  identity.  The 
articles  found  in  the  thicket  were  fully  identified  by 
the  relatives  of  Marie. 

The  items  of  evidence  and  information  thus  collected 
by  myself  from  the  newspapers,  at  the  suggestion  of 
Dupin,  embraced  only  one  more  point;  but  this  was 
a  point  of  seemingly  vast  consequence.  It  appears 

»Adam 

22 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

that,  immediately  after  the  discovery  of  the  clothes  AS 
above  described,  the  lifeless  or  nearly  lifeless  body  of 
St.  Eustache,  Marie's  betrothed,  was  found  in  the 
vicinity  of  what  all  now  supposed  the  scene  of  the 
outrage.  A  phial  labelled  "  laudanum,"  and  emptied, 
was  found  near  him.  His  breath  gave  evidence  of 
the  poison.  He  died  without  speaking.  Upon  his 
person  was  found  a  letter,  briefly  stating  his  love  for 
Marie,  with  his  design  of  self-destruction. 

"  I  need  scarcely  tell  you,"  said  Dupin,  as  he  finished 
the  perusal  of  my  notes,  "  that  this  is  a  far  more  intri 
cate  case  than  that  of  the  Rue  Morgue,  from  which 
it  differs  in  one  important  respect.  This  is  an  ordinary, 
although  an  atrocious,  instance  of  crime.  There  is 
nothing  peculiarly  outre  about  it.  You  will  observe 
that,  for  this  reason,  the  mystery  has  been  considered 
easy,  when,  for  this  reason,  it  should  have  been  con 
sidered  difficult,  of  solution.  Thus,  at  first,  it  was 
thought  unnecessary  to  offer  a  reward.  The  myrmi 
dons  of  G were  able  at  once  to  comprehend  how 

and  why  such  an  atrocity  might  have  been  committed. 
They  could  picture  to  their  imaginations  a  mode — • 
many  modes,  and  a  motive — many  motives;  and  be 
cause  it  was  not  impossible  that  either  of  these  numer 
ous  modes  and  motives  could  have  been  the  actual 
one,  they  have  taken  it  for  granted  that  one  of  them 
muste  But  the  ease  with  which  these  variable  fancies 
were  entertained,  and  the  very  plausibility  which  each 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

assumed,  should  have  been  understood  as  indicativ* 
rather  of  the  difficulties  than  of  the  facilities  which 
must  attend  elucidation.  I  have  therefore  observed 
that  it  is  by  prominences  above  the  plane  of  the 
ordinary  that  reason  feels  her  way,  if  at  all,  hi  her 
search  for  the  true,  and  that  the  proper  question  in 
cases  such  as  this,  is  not  so  much  *  What  has  occurred?* 
as  *  What  has  occurred  that  has  never  occurred  be 
fore?  '  In  the  investigations  at  the  house  of  Madame 

L'Espanaye,  *  the  agents  of  G were  discouraged 

and  confounded  by  that  very  unusualness  which,  to  a 
properly  regulated  intellect,  would  have  afforded  the 
surest  omen  of  success;  while  this  same  intellect 
might  have  been  plunged  in  despair  at  the  ordinary 
character  of  all  that  met  the  eye  in  the  case  of  the 
perfumery-girl,  and  yet  told  nothing  but  easy  triumph 
to  the  functionaries  of  the  Prefecture. 

"  In  the  case  of  Madame  L'Espanaye  and  her 
daughter,  there  was,  even  at  the  beginning  of  our 
investigation,  no  doubt  that  murder  had  been  com 
mitted.  The  idea  of  suicide  was  excluded  at  once. 
Here,  too,  we  are  freed,  at  the  commencement,  from 
all  supposition  of  self-murder.  The  body  found  at  the 
Barriere  du  Roule  was  found  under  such  circumstances 
as  to  leave  us  no  room  for  embarrassment  upon  this  im 
portant  point.  But  it  has  been  suggested  that  the 
corpse  discovered  is  not  that  of  the  Marie  Roget  foi 

1  SfC  Matters  in  the  Rue  Morgue. 

24 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

the  conviction  of  whose  assassin,  or  assassins,  the 
reward  is  offered,  and  respecting  whom,  solely,  our 
agreement  has  been  arranged  with  the  Prefect.  We 
both  know  this  gentleman  well.  It  will  not  do  to 
trust  him  too  far.  If,  dating  our  inquiries  from  the 
body  found,  and  then  tracing  a  murderer,  we  yet 
discover  this  body  to  be  that  of  some  other  individual 
than  Marie ;  or  if,  starting  from  the  living  Marie,  we 
find  her,  yet  find  her  unassassinated,  hi  either  case  we 

lose  our  labor,  since  it  is  Monsieur  G with  whom 

we  have  to  deal.  For  our  own  purpose,  therefore, 
if  not  for  the  purpose  of  justice,  it  is  indispensable  that 
our  first  step  should  be  the  determination  of  the  ident 
ity  of  the  corpse  with  the  Marie  Roget  who  is  missing. 
"  With  the  public  the  arguments  of  L'Etoile  have 
had  weight;  and  that  the  journal  itself  is  convinced 
of  their  importance  would  appear  from  the  manner 
hi  which  it  commences  one  of  its  essays  upon  the 
subject :  '  Several  of  the  morning  papers  of  the  day,' 
it  says,  *  speak  of  the  conclusive  article  hi  Monday's 
U&oile,  To  me,  this  artrcle  appears  conclusive  of  little 
beyond  the  zeal  of  its  Inditer.  We  should  bear  in 
mind  that,  in  general,  it  is  the  object  of  our  newspapers 
rather  to  create  a  sensation,  to  make  a  point,  than  to 
further  the  cause  of  truth.  The  latter  end  is  only 
pursued  when  it  seems  coincident  with  the  former. 
The  print  which  merely  falls  in  with  ordinary  opinion 
(however  well  founded  this  opinion  may  be)  earns  for 

25 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roggt 

itself  no  credit  with  the  mob.  The  mass  of  the  people 
regard  as  profound  only  him  who  suggests  pungent 
contradictions  of  the  general  idea.  In  ratiocination, 
not  less  than  in  literature,  it  is  the  epigram  which  is 
the  most  immediately  and  the  most  universally  ap 
preciated.  In  both,  it  is  of  the  lowest  order  of  merit. 

"  What  I  mean  to  say  is,  that  it  is  the  mingled  epi 
gram  and  melodrame  of  the  idea  that  Marie  Roget 
still  lives,  rather  than  any  true  plausibility  in  this 
idea,  which  have  suggested  it  to  L'Etoile,  and  secured 
it  a  favorable  reception  with  the  public.  Let  us 
examine  the  heads  of  this  journal's  argument,  en 
deavoring  to  avoid  the  incoherence  with  which  it  is 
originally  set  forth. 

"  The  first  aim  of  the  writer  is  to  show,  from  the 
brevity  of  the  interval  between  Marie's  disappearance 
and  the  finding  of  the  floating  corpse,  that  this  corpse 
cannot  be  that  of  Marie.  The  reduction  of  this  in 
terval  to  its  smallest  possible  dimension,  becomes  thus, 
at  once,  an  object  with  the  reasoner.  In  the  rash 
pursuit  of  this  object,  he  rushes  into  mere  assumption 
at  the  outset.  *  It  is  folly  to  suppose,'  he  says,  *  that 
the  murder,  if  murder  was  committed  on  her  body, 
could  have  been  consummated  soon  enough  to  have 
enabled  her  murderers  to  throw  the  body  into  the  river 
before  midnight.'  We  demand  at  once,  and  very 
naturally,  why  ?  Why  is  it  folly  to  suppose  that  the 
murder  was  committed  within  five  minutes  after  the 

26 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

girl's  quitting  her  mother's  house  ?  Why  is  it  folly 
to  suppose  that  the  murder  was  committed  at  any 
given  period  of  the  day  ?  There  have  been  assassina 
tions  at  all  hours.  But,  had  the  murder  taken  place 
at  any  moment  between  nine  o'clock  hi  the  morning 
of  Sunday  and  a  quarter  before  midnight,  there  would 
still  have  been  time  enough  *  to  throw  the  body  into 
the  river  before  midnight.'  This  assumption,  then, 
amounts  precisely  to  this,  that  the  murder  was  not 
committed  on  Sunday  at  all,  and,  if  we  allow  L'Etoile 
to  assume  this,  we  may  permit  it  any  liberties  what 
ever.  The  paragraph  beginning  *  It  is  folly  to  suppose 
that  the  murder,  etc.,'  however  it  appears  as  printed 
in  L'Etoilef  may  be  imagined  to  have  existed  actually 
thus  in  the  brain  of  its  inditer :  *  It  is  folly  to  suppose 
that  the  murder,  if  murder  was  committed  on  the 
body,  could  have  been  committed  soon  enough  to 
have  enabled  her  murderers  to  throw  the  body  into 
the  river  before  midnight;  it  is  folly,  we  say,  to  sup 
pose  all  this,  and  to  suppose  at  the  same  time  (as  we 
are  resolved  to  suppose),  that  the  body  was  not  thrown 
in  until  after  midnight,'  a  sentence  sufficiently  incon 
sequential  in  itself,  but  not  so  utterly  preposterous  as 
the  one  printed. 

"  Were  it  my  purpose,"  continued  Dupin,  "  merely 
to  make  out  a  case  against  this  passage  of  L'£toile's 
argument,  I  might  safely  leave  it  where  it  is.  It  is 
not,  however,  with  L'Etoile  that  we  have  to  do,  but 

27 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

with  the  truth.  The  sentence  in  question  has  but  one 
meaning,  as  it  stands ;  and  this  meaning  I  have  fairly 
stated;  but  it  is  material  that  we  go  behind  the  mere 
words,  for  an  idea  which  these  words  have  obviously 
intended  and  failed  to  convey.  It  was  the  design  of 
the  journalists  to  say  that  at  whatever  period  of  the 
day  or  night  of  Sunday  this  murder  was  committed,  it 
was  improbable  that  the  assassins  would  have  ven 
tured  tc  bear  the  corpse  to  the  river  before  midnight. 
And  herein  lies,  really,  the  assumption  of  which 
I  complain.  It  is  assumed  that  the  murder  was 
committed  at  such  a  position,  and  under  such  circum 
stances,  that  the  bearing  it  to  the  river  became  neces 
sary.  Now,  the  assassination  might  have  taken  place 
upon  the  river's  brink,  or  on  the  river  itself;  and, 
thus,  the  throwing  the  corpse  in  the  water  might  have 
been  resorted  to  at  any  period  of  the  day  or  night,  as  . 
the  most  obvious  and  most  immediate  mode  of  disposal. 
You  will  understand  that  I  suggest  nothing  here  as 
probable,  or  as  coincident  with  my  own  opinion.  My 
design,  so  far,  has  no  reference  to  the  facts  of  the 
case.  I  wish  merely  to  caution  you  against  the  whole 
tone  of  L'Etoile's  suggestion,  by  calling  your  attention 
to  its  ex  parte  character  at  the  outset. 

"  Having  prescribed  thus  a  limit  to  suit  its  own  pre 
conceived  notions;  having  assumed  that,  if  this  were 
the  body  of  Marie,  it  could  have  been  in  the  water 
but  a  very  brief  time,  the  journal  goes  on  to  say: 

28 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

"  '  All  experience  has  shown  that  drowned  bodies, 
or  bodies  thrown  into  the  water  immediately  after 
death  by  violence,  require  from  six  to  ten  days  for 
sufficient  decomposition  to  take  place  to  bring  them 
to  the  top  of  the  water.  Even  when  a  cannon  is  fired 
over  a  corpse,  and  it  rises  before  at  least  five  or  six 
days'  immersion,  it  sinks  again  if  let  alone.' 

"  These  assertions  have  been  tacitly  received  by 
every  paper  in  Paris,  with  the  exception  of  Le  Moni' 
teur,1  This  latter  print  endeavors  to  combat  that  por 
tion  of  the  paragraph  which  has  reference  to  '  drowned 
bodies  '  only,  by  citing  some  five  or  six  instances  in 
which  the  bodies  of  individuals  known  to  be  drowned 
were  found  floating  after  the  lapse  of  less  time  than  is 
insisted  upon  by  L'Etoile,  But  there  is  something 
excessively  unphilosophical  in  the  attempt  on  the  part 
of  Le  Moniteur  to  rebut  the  general  assertion  of 
L'Etoile  ^  by  a  citation  of  particular  instances  militating 
against  that  assertion.  Had  it  been  possible  to  adduce 
fifty  instead  of  five  examples  of  bodies  found  floating 
at  the  end  of  two  or  three  days,  these  fifty  examples 
could  still  have  been  properly  regarded  only  as  excep 
tions  to  L'Etoile' s  rule,  until  such  time  as  the  rule 
itself  should  be  confuted.  Admitting  the  rule  (and 
this  Le  Momtevr  does  not  deny,  insisting  merely  upon 
its  exceptions),  the  argument  of  L'Etoile  is  suffered 
to  remain  in  full  force;  for  this  argument  does  not 

1  The  New  York  Commercial  Advertiser,  edited  by  Col.  Stone. 
29 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog£t 

pretend  to  involve  more  than  a  question  of  the  prob 
ability  of  the  body  having  risen  to  the  surface  in  less 
than  three  days;  and  this  probability  will  be  hi  favor 
of  L'Etoile's  position  until  the  instances  so  childishly 
adduced  shall  be  sufficient  in  number  to  establish  an 
antagonistic al  rule. 

"  You  will  see  at  once  that  all  argument  upon  this 
head  should  be  urged,  if  at  all,  against  the  rule  itself; 
and  for  this  end  we  must  examine  the  rationale  of  the 
rule.  Now  the  human  body,  in  general,  is  neither 
much  lighter  nor  much  heavier  than  the  water  of  the 
Seine ;  that  is  to  say,  the  specific  gravity  of  the  human 
body,  hi  its  natural  condition,  is  about  equal  to  the 
bulk  of  fresh  water  which  it  displaces.  The  bodies  of 
fat  and  fleshy  persons,  with  small  bones,  and  of  women 
generally,  are  lighter  than  those  of  the  lean  and  large- 
boned,  and  of  men;  and  the  specific  gravity  of  the 
water  of  a  river  is  somewhat  influenced  by  the  presence 
of  the  tide  from  the  sea.  But,  leaving  this  tide  out  of 
question,  it  may  be  said  that  very  few  human  bodies 
will  sink  at  all,  even  in  fresh  water,  of  their  own 
accord,  Almost  any  one,  falling  into  a  river,  will  be 
enabled  to  float,  if  he  suffer  the  specific  gravity  of  the 
water  fairly  to  be  adduced  in  comparison  with  his 
own;  that  is  to  say,  if  he  suffer  his  whole  person  to 
be  immersed,  with  as  little  exception  as  possible.  The 
proper  position  for  one  who  cannot  swim,  is  the  up 
right  position  of  the  walker  on  land,  with  the  head 

30 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

V 

thrown  fully  back,  and  immersed;  the  mouth  and 
nostrils  alone  remaining  above  the  surface.  Thus 
circumstanced,  we  shall  find  that  we  float  without 
difficulty  and  without  exertion.  It  is  evident,  how 
ever,  that  the  gravities  of  the  body  and  of  the  bulk  of 
water  displaced  are  very  nicely  balanced,  and  that  a 
trifle  will  cause  either  to  preponderate.  An  arm,  for 
instance,  uplifted  from  the  water,  and  thus  deprived 
of  its  support,  is  an  additional  weight  sufficient  to  im 
merse  the  whole  head,  while  the  accidental  aid  of  the 
smallest  piece  of  timber  will  enable  us  to  elevate  the 
head  so  as  to  look  about.  Now,  in  the  struggles  of 
one  unused  to  swimming,  the  arms  are  invariably 
thrown  upward,  while  an  attempt  is  made  to  keep  the 
head  in  its  usual  perpendicular  position.  The  result 
is  the  immersion  of  the  mouth  and  nostrils,  and  the 
inception,  during  efforts  to  breathe  while  beneath  the 
surface,  of  water  into  the  lungs.  Much  is  also  re 
ceived  into  the  stomach,  and  the  whole  body  becomes 
heavier  by  the  difference  between  the  weight  of  the 
air  originally  distending  these  cavities  and  that  of  the 
fluid  which  now  fills  them.  This  difference  is  suffi 
cient  to  cause  the  body  to  sink,  as  a  general  rule ;  but 
is  insufficient  in  the  cases  of  individuals  with  small 
bones  and  an  abnormal  quantity  of  flaccid  or  fatty 
matter.  Such  individuals  float  even  after  drov  "ning. 

"  The  corpse,  being  supposed  at  the  bottom  of  the 
river,  will  there  remain  until,  by  some  means,  its 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

specific  gravity  again  becomes  less  than  that  of  the 
bulk  of  water  which  it  displaces.  This  effect  is  brought 
about  by  decomposition,  or  otherwise.  The  result  of 
decomposition  is  the  generation  of  gas,  distending  the 
cellular  tissues  and  all  the  cavities,  and  giving  the 
puffed  appearance  which  is  so  horrible.  When  this 
distension  has  so  far  progressed  that  the  bulk  of  the 
corpse  is  materially  increased  without  a  corresponding 
increase  of  mass  or  weight,  its  specific  gravity  becomes 
less  than  that  of  the  water  displaced,  and  it  forthwith 
makes  its  appearance  at  the  surface.  But  decompo 
sition  is  modified  by  innumerable  circumstances,  is 
hastened  or  retarded  by  innumerable  agencies;  for 
example,  by  the  heat  or  cold  of  the  season,  by  the 
mineral  impregnation  or  purity  of  the  water,  by  its 
depth  or  shallowness,  by  its  currency  or  stagnation,  by 
the  temperament  of  the  body,  by  its  infection  or  free 
dom  from  disease  before  death.  Thus  it  is  evident  that 
we  can  assign  no  period,  with  anything  like  accuracy, 
at  which  the  corpse  shall  rise  through  decomposition. 
Under  certain  conditions  this  result  would  be  brought 
about  within  an  hour ;  under  others  it  might  not  take 
place  at  all.  There  are  chemical  infusions  by  which 
the  animal  frame  can  be  preserved  forever  from  cor 
ruption  ;  the  bichloride  of  mercury  is  one.  But,  apart 
from  decomposition,  there  may  be,  and  very  usually 
is,  a  generation  of  gas  within  the  stomach,  from  the 
acetous  fermentation  of  vegetable  matter  (or  within 

32 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

other  cavities  from  other  causes),  sufficient  to  indues 
a  distension  which  will  bring  the  body  to  the  surface. 
The  effect  produced  by  the  firing  of  a  cannon  is  that 
of  simple  vibration.  This  may  either  loosen  the  corpse 
from  the  soft  mud  or  ooze  in  which  it  is  imbedded, 
thus  permitting  it  to  rise  when  other  agencies  have 
already  prepared  it  for  so  doing;  or  it  may  overcome 
the  tenacity  of  some  putrescent  portions  of  the  cellular 
tissue,  allowing  the  cavities  to  distend  under  the  in 
fluence  of  the  gas. 

"  Having  thus  before  us  the  whole  philosophy  of 
this  subject,  we  can  easily  test  by  it  the  assertions  of 
L'Etoile,  '  All  experience  shows,'  says  this  paper,  '  that 
drowned  bodies,  or  bodies  thrown  into  the  water  im 
mediately  after  death  by  violence,  require  from  six  to 
ten  days  for  sufficient  decomposition  to  take  place  to 
bring  them  to  the  top  of  the  water.  Even  when  a 
cannon  is  fired  over  a  corpse,  and  it  rises  before  at 
least  five  or  six  days'  immersion,  it  sinks  again  if  let 
alone.' 

"  The  whole  of  this  paragraph  must  now  appear  a 
tissue  of  inconsequence  and  incoherence.  All  ex 
perience  does  not  show  that  *  drowned  bodies  '  require 
from  six  to  ten  days  for  sufficient  decomposition  to 
take  place  to  bring  them  to  the  surface.  Both  science 
and  experience  show  that  the  period  of  their  rising  is, 
and  necessarily  must  be,  indeterminate.  If,  moreover, 
a  body  has  risen  to  the  surface  through  firing  of  can- 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

non,  it  will  not  '  sink  again  if  let  alone,'  until  decompo 
sition  has  so  far  progressed  as  to  permit  the  escape  of 
the  generated  gas.  But  I  wish  to  call  your  attention 
to  the  distinction  which  is  made  between  '  drowned 
bodies,'  and  *  bodies  thrown  into  the  water  immediately 
after  death  by  violence.'  Although  the  writer  admits 
the  distinction,  he  yet  includes  them  all  in  the  same 
category.  I  have  shown  how  it  is  that  the  body  of  a 
drowning  man  becomes  specifically  heavier  than  its 
bulk  of  water,  and  that  he  would  not  sink  at  aJl,  ex 
cept  for  the  struggle  by  which  he  elevates  his  arms 
above  the  surface,  and  his  gasps  for  breath  while 
beneath  the  surface,  gasps  which  supply  by  water  the 
place  of  the  original  air  in  the  lungs.  But  these 
struggles  and  these  gasps  would  not  occur  in  the  body 
'  thrown  into  the  water  immediately  after  death  by 
violence.'  Thus,  in  the  latter  instance,  the  body,  as 
a  general  rule,  would  not  sink  at  all,  a  fact  of  which 
U&oile  is  evidently  ignorant.  When  decomposition 
had  proceeded  to  a  very  great  extent,  when  the  flesh 
had  in  a  great  measure  left  the  bones,  then,  indeed, 
but  not  till  then,  should  we  lose  sight  of  the  corpse. 
"  And  now  what  are  we  to  make  of  the  argument, 
that  the  body  found  could  not  be  that  of  Marie  Roget, 
because,  three  days  only  having  elapsed,  this  body  was 
found  floating  ?  If  drowned,  being  a  woman  she 
might  never  have  sunk ;  or,  having  sunk,  might  have 
reappeared  in  twenty-four  hours  or  less.  But  no  one 

34 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

supposes  her  to  have  been  drowned ;  and,  dying  before 
being  thrown  into  the  river,  she  might  have  been 
found  floating  at  any  period  afterward  whatever. 

"  '  But,'  says  L'&oile,  '  if  the  body  had  been  kept 
in  its  mangled  state  on  shore  until  Tuesday  night,  some 
trace  would  be  found  on  shore  of  the  murderers.'  Here 
it  is  at  first  difficult  to  perceive  the  intention  of  the 
reasoner.  He  means  to  anticipate  what  he  imagines 
would  be  an  objection  to  his  theory,  viz.,  that  the 
body  was  kept  on  shore  two  days,  suffering  rapid 
decomposition,  more  rapid  than  if  immersed  in  water. 
He  supposes  that,  had  this  been  the  case,  it  might  have 
appeared  at  the  surface  on  the  Wednesday,  and  thinks 
that  only  under  such  circumstances  it  could  have  so 
appeared.  He  is  accordingly  in  haste  to  show  that  it 
was  not  kept  on  shore ;  for,  if  so,  *  some  trace  would 
be  found  on  shore  of  the  murderers.'  I  presume  you 
smile  at  the  sequitur,  You  cannot  be  made  to  see 
how  the  mere  duration  of  the  corpse  on  the  shore 
could  operate  to  multiply  traces  of  the  assassins.  Nor 
can  I. 

"  *  And  furthermore  it  is  exceedingly  improbable,' 
continues  our  journal,  *  that  any  villains  who  had 
committed  such  a  murder  as  is  here  supposed,  would 
have  thrown  the  body  in  without  weight  to  sink  it, 
when  such  a  precaution  could  have  so  easily  been 
taken.'  Observe,  here,  the  laughable  confusion  of 
thought!  No  one,  not  even  L'Etoile  disputes  the 

35 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

murder  committed  on  the  body  found.  The  marks  of 
violence  are  too  obvious.  It  is  our  reasoner's  object 
merely,  to  show  that  this  body  is  not  Marie's.  He 
wishes  to  prove  that  Marie  is  not  assassinated,  not 
that  the  corpse  was  not.  Yet  his  observation  proves 
only  the  latter  point.  Here  is  a  corpse  without  weight 
attached.  Murderers,  casting  it  in,  would  not  have 
failed  to  attach  a  weight.  Therefore  it  was  not  thrown 
in  by  murderers.  This  is  all  which  is  proved,  if  any 
thing  is.  The  question  of  identity  is  not  even  ap 
proached,  and  L'Etoile  has  been  at  great  pains  merely 
to  gainsay  now  what  it  has  admitted  only  a  moment 
before.  *  We  are  perfectly  convinced,'  it  says,  *  that 
the  body  found  was  that  of  a  murdered  female.' 

"  Nor  is  this  the  sole  instance,  even  in  this  division 
of  his  subject,  where  our  reasoner  unwittingly  reasons 
against  himself.  His  evident  object,  I  have  already 
said,  is  to  reduce,  as  much  as  possible,  the  interval 
between  Marie's  disappearance  and  the  finding  of  the 
corpse.  Yet  we  find  him  urging  the  point  that  no 
person  saw  the  girl  ffom  the  moment  of  her  leaving 
her  mother's  house.  '  We  have  no  evidence,'  he  says, 
'  that  Marie  Roget  was  hi  the  land  of  the  living  after 
nine  o'clock  on  Sunday,  June  the  twenty-second.' 
As  his  argument  is  obviously  an  ex  parte  one,  he 
should,  at  least,  have  left  this  matter  out  of  sight;  for 
had  any  one  been  known  to  see  Marie,  say  on  Monday, 
or  on  Tuesday,  the  interval  in  question  would  have 

36 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog6t 

been  much  reduced,  and,  by  his  own  ratiocination, 
the  probability  much  diminished  of  the  corpse  being 
that  of  the  grisette.  It  is,  nevertheless,  amusing  to 
observe  that  L'Etoile  insists  upon  its  point  in  the  full 
belief  of  its  furthering  its  general  argument. 

"  Reperuse  now  that  portion  of  this  argument 
which  has  reference  to  the  identification  of  the  corpse 
by  Beauvais.  In  regard  to  the  hair  upon  the  arm, 
L'Etoile  has  been  obviously  disingenuous.  M.  Beau 
vais,  not  being  an  idiot,  could  never  have  urged,  in 
identification  of  the  corpse,  simply  hair  upon  its  arm. 
No  arm  is  without  hair.  The  generality  of  the  ex 
pression  of  L'Etoile  is  a  mere  perversion  of  the  wit 
ness's  phraseology.  He  must  have  spoken  of  some 
peculiarity  in  this  hair.  It  must  have  been  a  pecul 
iarity  of  color,  of  quantity,  of  length,  or  of  situation. 

"  '  Her  foot,'  says  the  journal,  '  was  small;  so  are 
thousands  of  feet.  Her  garter  is  no  proof  whatever, 
nor  is  her  shoe,  for  shoes  and  garters  are  sold  in 
packages.  The  same  may  be  said  of  the  flowers  in 
her  hat.  One  thing  upon  which  M.  Beauvais  strongly 
insists  is  that  the  clasp  on  the  garter  found  had  been 
set  back  to  take  it  in.  This  amounts  to  nothing;  for 
most  women  find  it  proper  to  take  a  pair  of  garters 
home  and  fit  them  to  the  size  of  the  limbs  they  are 
to  encircle,  rather  than  to  try  them  in  the  store  where 
they  purchase.'  Here  it  is  difficult  to  suppose  the 
reasoner  in  earnest.  Had  M.  Beauvais,  hi  his  search 

37 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

for  the  body  of  Marie,  discovered  a  corpse  correspond 
ing  in  general  size  and  appearance  to  the  missing  girl, 
he  would  have  been  warranted  (without  reference  to 
the  question  of  habiliment  at  all)  in  forming  an 
opinion  that  his  search  had  been  successful.  If,  in 
addition  to  the  point  of  general  size  and  contour,  he 
had  found  upon  the  arm  a  peculiar  hairy  appearance 
which  he  had  observed  upon  the  living  Marie,  his 
opinion  might  have  been  justly  strengthened;  and 
the  increase  of  positiveness  might  well  have  been  in 
the  ratio  of  the  peculiarity,  or  unusualness,  of  the  hairy 
mark.  If,  the  feet  of  Marie  being  small,  those  of  the 
corpse  were  also  small,  the  increase  of  probability 
that  the  body  was  that  of  Marie  would  not  be  an 
increase  in  a  ratio  merely  arithmetical,  but  in  one 
highly  geometrical,  or  accumulative.  Add  to  all  this 
shoes  such  as  she  had  been  known  to  wear  upon  the 
day  of  her  disappearance,  and,  although  these  shoes 
may  be  '  sold  in  packages,'  you  so  far  augment  the 
probability  as  to  verge  upon  the  certain.  What,  of 
itself,  would  be  no  evidence  of  identity,  becomes, 
through  its  corroborative  position,  proof  most  sure. 
Give  us,  then,  flowers  in  the  hat  corresponding  to 
those  worn  by  the  missing  girl,  and  we  seek  for  noth 
ing  further.  If  only  one  flower,  we  seek  for  nothing 
further;  what  then  if  two  or  three,  or  more  ?  Each 
successive  one  is  multiple  evidence,  proof  not  added 
to  proof,  but  multiplied  by  hundreds  or  thousands, 

38 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog£t 

Let  us  now  discover  upon  the  deceased  garters  such 
as  the  living  used,  and  it  is  almost  folly  to  proceed. 
But  these  garters  are  found  to  be  tightened,  by  the 
setting  back  of  a  clasp,  in  just  such  a  manner  as  her 
own  had  been  tightened  by  Marie  shortly  previous  to 

her  leaving  home.     It  is  now  madness  or  hypocrisy  to 

/ 

doubt.  What  L'Etoile  says  in  respect  to  this  abbre 
viation  of  the  garters  being  an  usual  occurrence, 
shows  nothing  beyond  its  own  pertinacity  in  error. 
The  elastic  nature  of  the  clasp-garter  is  self-demon 
stration  of  the  unusualness  of  the  abbreviation.  What 
is  made  to  adjust  itself,  must  of  necessity  require 
foreign  adjustment  but  rarely.  It  must  have  been  by 
an  accident,  in  its  strictest  sense,  that  these  garters  of 
Marie  needed  the  tightening  described.  They  alone 
would  have  amply  established  her  identity.  But  it  is 
not  that  the  corpse  was  found  to  have  the  garters  of 
the  missing  girl,  or  found  to  have  her  shoes,  or  her 
bonnet,  or  the  flowers  of  her  bonnet,  or  her  feet,  or  a 
peculiar  mark  upon  the  arm,  or  her  general  size  and 
appearance, — it  is  that  the  corpse  had  each  and  all 
collectively.  Could  it  be  proved  that  the  editor  of 
L'Etoile  really  entertained  a  doubt,  under  the  cir 
cumstances,  there  would  be  no  need,  in  his  case,  of  a 
commission  de  lunatico  inquirendo,  He  has  thought 
it  sagacious  to  echo  the  small  talk  of  the  lawyers,  who, 
for  the  most  part,  content  themselves  with  echoing  the 
rectangular  precepts  of  the  courts.  I  would  here 

39 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

observ*  that  very  much  of  what  is  rejected  as  evidence 
by  a  court  is  the  best  of  evidence  to  the  intellect.  For 
the  court,  guided  itself  by  the  general  principles  of 
evidence,  the  recognized  and  booked  principles,  is 
averse  from  swerving  at  particular  instances.  And 
this  steadfast  adherence  to  principle,  with  rigorous 
disregard  of  the  conflicting  exception,  is  a  sure  mode 
of  attaining  the  maximum  of  attainable  truth,  in  any 
long  sequence  of  time.  The  practice,  in  mass,  is  there 
fore  philosophical;  but  it  is  not  the  less  certain  that 
it  engenders  vast  individual  error.1 

"  In  respect  to  the  insinuations  levelled  at  Beauvais, 
you  will  be  willing  to  dismiss  them  in  a  breath.  You 
have  already  fathomed  the  true  character  of  this  good 
gentleman.  He  is  a  busybody,  with  much  of  romance 
and  little  of  wit.  Any  one  so  constituted  will  readily 
so  conduct  himself,  upon  occasion  of  real  excitement, 
as  to  render  himself  liable  to  suspicion  on  the  part 
of  the  overacute,  or  the  ill-disposed.  M.  Beauvais 
(as  it  appears  from  your  notes)  had  some  personal 
interviews  with  the  editor  of  L'£toile,  and  offended 
him  by  venturing  an  opinion  that  the  corpse,  not 
withstanding  the  theory  of  the  editor,  was,  in  sober 

1  "  A  theory  based  on  the  qualities  of  an  object  will  prevent  its  being 
unfolded  according  to  its  objects;  and  he  who  arranges  topics  in  reference 
to  their  causes,  will  cease  to  value  them  according  to  their  results.  Thus  the 
jurisprudence  of  every  nation  will  show  that,  when  law  becomes  a  science 
and  a  system,  it  ceases  to  be  justice.  The  errors  into  which  a  blind  devotion 
to  principles  of  classification  has  led  the  common  law  will  be  seen  by  ob 
serving  how  often  the  legislature  has  been  obliged  to  come  forward  to  restore 
the  equity  its  scheme  had  lost." — Landor. 

40 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

fact,  that  of  Marie.  :  He  persists,'  says  the  paper,  *  in 
asserting  the  corpse  to  be  that  of  Marie,  but  cannot 
give  a  circumstance,  in  addition  to  those  which  we 
have  commented  upon,  to  make  others  believe.'  Now, 
without  readverting  to  the  fact  that  stronger  evidence 
'  to  make  others  believe  '  could  never  have  been  ad 
duced,  it  may  be  remarked  that  a  man  may  very  well 
Se  understood  to  believe,  in  a  case  of  this  kind,  with 
out  the  ability  to  advance  a  single  reason  for  the  belief 
of  a  second  party.  Nothing  is  more  vague  than  im 
pressions  of  individual  identity.  Each  man  recognizes 
his  neighbor,  yet  there  are  few  instances  in  which 
any  one  is  prepared  to  give  a  reason  for  his  recognition. 
The  editor  of  L'Etoile  had  no  right  to  be  offended  at 
M.  Beauvais's  unreasoning  belief. 

"  The  suspicious  circumstances  which  invest  him 
will  be  found  to  tally  much  better  with  my  hypothesis 
of  romantic  busybodyism,  than  with  the  reasoner's 
suggestion  of  guilt.  Once  adopting  the  more  charita 
ble  interpretation,  we  shall  find  no  difficulty  in  com 
prehending  the  rose  in  the  keyhole ;  the  *  Marie  ' 
upon  the  slate ;  the  •  elbowing  the  male  relatives  out 
of  the  way  ' ;  *  the  aversion  to  permitting  them  to  see 

the  body  ' ;  the  caution  given  to  Madame  B ,  that 

she  must  hold  no  conversation  with  the  gendarme  until 
his  (Beauvais's)  return ;  and,  lastly,  his  apparent  de 
termination  *  that  nobody  should  have  anything  to  do 
with  the  proceedings  except  himself.'  It  seems  to  me 

41 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

unquestionable  that  Beauvais  was  a  suitor  of  Marie's; 
that  she  coquetted  with  him;  and  that  he  was  am 
bitious  of  being  thought  to  enjoy  her  fullest  intimacy 
and  confidence.  I  shall  say  nothing  more  upon  this 
point;  and  as  the  evidence  fully  rebuts  the  assertion 
of  L'Etoile  touching  the  matter  of  apathy  on  the 
part  of  the  mother  and  other  relatives,  an  apathy 
inconsistent  with  the  supposition  of  their  believing  the 
corpse  to  be  that  of  the  perfumery-girl,  we  shall  now 
proceed  as  if  the  question  of  identity  were  settled  to 
our  perfect  satisfaction." 

"  And  what,"  I  here  demanded,  "  do  you  think  of 
the  opinions  of  Le  Commerciel  ?  " 

"  That,  in  spirit,  they  are  far  more  worthy  of  atten 
tion  than  any  which  have  been  promulgated  upon  the 
subject.  The  deductions  from  the  premises  are  philo 
sophical  and  acute ;  but  the  premises,  in  two  instances, 
at  least,  are  founded  in  imperfect  observation.  Le 
Commerciel  wishes  to  intimate  that  Marie  was  seized 
by  some  gang  of  low  ruffians  not  far  from  her  mother's 
door.  '  It  is  impossible,'  it  urges,  *  that  a  person  so 
well  known  to  thousands  as  this  young  woman  was, 
should  have  passed  three  blocks  without  some  one 
having  seen  her.'  This  is  the  idea  of  a  man  long 
resident  in  Paris,  a  public  man,  and  one  whose  walks 
to  and  fro  in  the  city  have  been  mostly  limited  to  the 
vicinity  of  the  public  offices.  He  is  aware  that  he 
seldom  passes  so  far  as  a  dozen  blocks  from  his  own 

42 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

bureau  without  being  recognized  and  accosted.  And, 
knowing  the  extent  of  his  personal  acquaintance  with 
others,  and  of  others  with  him,  he  compares  his  noto 
riety  with  that  of  the  perfumery-girl,  finds  no  great 
difference  between  them,  and  reaches  at  once  the  con 
clusion  that  she,  in  her  walks,  would  be  equally  liable 
to  recognition  with  himself  in  his.  This  could  only 
be  the  case  were  her  walks  of  the  same  unvarying, 
methodical  character,  and  within  the  same  species  of 
limited  region  as  are  his  own.  He  passes  to  and  fro, 
at  regular  intervals,  within  a  confined  periphery, 
abounding  in  individuals  who  are  led  to  observation 
of  his  person  through  interest  in  the  kindred  nature 
of  his  occupation  with  their  own.  But  the  walks  of 
Marie  may,  in  general,  be  supposed  discursive.  In 
this  particular  instance  it  will  be  understood  as  most 
probable  that  she  proceeded  upon  a  route  of  more  than 
average  diversity  from  her  accustomed  ones.  The 
parallel  which  we  imagine  to  have  existed  in  the  mind 
of  Le  Cimmerciel  would  only  be  sustained  in  the 
event  of  the  two  individuals  traversing  the  whole  city. 
In  this  case,  granting  the  personal  acquaintances  to 
be  equal,  the  chances  would  be  also  equal  that  an 
equal  number  of  personal  rencontres  would  be  made. 
For  my  own  part,  I  should  hold  it  not  only  as  possible, 
but  as  far  more  than  probable,  that  Marie  might  have 
proceeded,  at  any  given  period,  by  any  one  of  the 
many  routes  between  her  own  residence  and  that  of 

43 


The  Mystery  01  Marie  Roget 

her  aunt,  without  meeting  a  single  individual  whom 
she  knew,  or  by  whom  she  was  known.  In  viewing 
this  question  in  its  full  and  proper  light,  we  must  hold 
steadily  in  mind  the  great  disproportion  between  the 
personal  acquaintances  of  even  the  most  noted  indi 
vidual  in  Paris  and  the  entire  population  of  Paris  itself. 

"  But  whatever  force  there  may  still  appear  to  be  in 
the  suggestion  of  Le  Commerciel  will  be  much  dimin 
ished  when  we  take  into  consideration  the  hour  at 
which  the  girl  went  abroad.  *  It  was  when  the  streets 
were  full  of  people,'  says  Le  Commerciel,  *  that  she 
went  out.'  But  not  so.  It  was  at  nine  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  Now  at  nine  o'clock  of  every  morning  in 
the  week,  with  the  exception  of  Sunday,  the  streets  of 
the  city  are,  it  is  true,  thronged  with  people.  At  nine 
on  Sunday,  the  populace  are  chiefly  within  doors  pre 
paring  for  church.  No  observing  person  can  have 
failed  to  notice  the  peculiarly  deserted  air  of  the  town 
from  about  eight  until  ten  on  the  morning  of  every 
Sabbath.  Between  ten  and  eleven  the  streets  are 
thronged,  but  not  at  so  early  a  period  as  that  desig 
nated. 

"  There  is  another  point  at  which  there  seems  a 
deficiency  of  observation  on  the  part  of  Le  CommercieL 
1  A  piece,'  it  says,  *  of  one  of  the  unfortunate  girl's 
petticoats,  two  feet  long  and  one  foot  wide,  was  torn 
out  and  tied  under  her  chin,  and  around  the  back  of 
her  head,  probably  to  prevent  screams.  This  was 

44 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

done  by  fellows  who  had  no  pocket-handkerchiefs.' 
Whether  this  idea  is  or  is  not  well  founded,  we  will 
endeavor  to  see  hereafter ;  but  by  *  fellows  who  have 
no  pocket-handkerchiefs,'  the  editor  intends  the  lowest 
class  of  ruffians.  These,  however,  are  the  very  de 
scription  of  people  who  will  always  be  found  to  have 
handkerchiefs  even  when  destitute  of  shirts.  You 
must  have  had  occasion  to  observe  how  absolutely 
indispensable,  of  late  years,  to  the  thorough  black 
guard,  has  become  the  pocket-handkerchief." 

"  And  what  are  we  to  think,"  I  asked,  "  of  the 
article  in  Le  Soleil  ?  " 

"  That  it  is  a  vast  pity  its  inditer  was  not  born  a 
parrot;  in  which  case  he  would  have  been  the  most 
illustrious  parrot  of  his  race.  He  has  merely  repeated 
the  individual  items  of  the  already  published  opinion ; 
collecting  them,  with  a  laudable  industry,  from  this 
paper  and  from  that.  *  The  things  had  all  evidently 
been  there,'  he  says,  '  at  least  three  or  four  weeks, 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  the  spot  of  this  appalling 
outrage  has  been  discovered.'  The  facts  here  restated 
by  Le  Soleil  are  very  far  indeed  from  removing  my 
own  doubts  upon  this  subject,  and  we  will  examine 
them  more  particularly  hereafter  hi  connection  with 
another  division  of  the  theme. 

"  At  present  we  must  occupy  ourselves  with  other 
investigations.  You  cannot  fail  to  have  remarked  the 
extreme  laxity  of  the  examination  of  the  corpse.  To 

45 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

be  sure,  the  question  of  identity  was  readily  determined, 
or  should  have  been;  but  there  were  other  points  to 
be  ascertained.  Had  the  body  been  in  any  respect 
despoiled  ?  Had  the  deceased  any  articles  of  jewelry 
about  her  person  upon  leaving  home  ?  if  so,  had  she 
any  when  found  ?  These  are  important  questions 
utterly  untouched  by  the  evidence;  and  there  are 
others  of  equal  moment  which  have  met  with  no  at 
tention.  We  must  endeavor  to  satisfy  ourselves  by 
personal  inquiry.  The  case  of  St.  Eustache  must  be 
re-examined.  I  have  no  suspicion  of  this  person ;  but 
let  us  proceed  methodically.  We  will  ascertain  be 
yond  a  doubt  the  validity  of  the  affidavits  in  regard  to 
his  whereabouts  on  the  Sunday.  Affidavits  of  this 
character  are  readily  made  matter  of  mystification. 
Should  there  be  nothing  wrong  here,  however,  we  will 
dismiss  St.  Eustache  from  our  investigations.  His 
suicide,  however  corroborative  of  suspicion,  were 
there  found  to  be  deceit  in  the  affidavits,  is,  without 
such  deceit,  in  no  respect  an  unaccountable  circum 
stance  or  o  e  which  need  cause  us  to  deflect  from  the 
line  of  ordinary  analysis. 

"  In  that  which  I  now  propose  we  will  discard  the 
interior  points  of  this  tragedy,  and  concentrate  our  at 
tention  upon  its  outskirts.  Not  the  least  usual  error 
in  investigations  such  as  this  is  the  limiting  of  inquiry 
to  the  immediate,  with  total  disregard  of  the  collateral 
or  circumstantial  events.  It  is  the  malpractice  of  the 

46 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

courts  to  confine  evidence  and  discussion  to  the  bounds 
of  apparent  relevancy.  Yet  experience  has  shown,  and 
a  true  philosophy  will  always  show,  that  a  vast,  per 
haps  the  larger,  portion  of  truth  arises  from  the 
seemingly  irrelevant.  It  is  through  the  spirit  of  this 
principle,  if  not  precisely  through  its  letter,  that 
modern  science  has  resolved  to  calculate  upon  the 
unforeseen.  But  perhaps  you  do  not  comprehend  me. 
The  history  of  human  knowledge  has  so  uninterruptedly 
shown  that  to  collateral,  or  incidental,  or  accidental 
events  we  are  indebted  for  the  most  numerous  and 
most  valuable  discoveries,  that  it  has  at  length  become 
necessary,  in  prospective  view  of  improvement,  to 
make  not  only  large,  but  the  largest,  allowances  for 
inventions  that  shall  arise  by  chance,  and  quite  out  of 
the  range  of  ordinary  expectation.  It  is  no  longer 
philosophical  to  base,  upon  what  has  been,  a  vision  of 
what  is  to  be.  Accident  is  admitted  as  a  portion  of  the 
substructure.  We  make  chance  a  matter  of  absolute 
calculation.  We  subject  the  unlooked-for  and  un- 
imagined  to  the  mathematical  formulae  of  the  schools. 
"  I  repeat  that  it  is  no  more  than  fact  that  the  larger 
portion  of  all  truth  has  sprung  from  the  collateral; 
and  it  is  but  hi  accordance  with  the  spirit  of  the  prin 
ciple  involved  in  this  fact  that  I  would  divert  inquiry 
in  the  present  case  from  the  trodden  and  hitherto  un 
fruitful  ground  of  the  event  itself  to  the  contemporary 
circumstances  which  surround  it.  While  you  ascer- 

47 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

tain  the  validity  of  the  affidavits,  I  will  examine  the 
newspapers  more  generally  than  you  have  as  yet  done. 
So  far,  we  have  only  reconnoitred  the  field  of  investi 
gation;  but  it  will  be  strange,  indeed,  if  a  compre 
hensive  survey,  such  as  I  propose,  of  the  public  prints 
will  not  afford  us  some  minute  points  which  shall 
establish  a  direction  for  inquiry." 

In  pursuance  of  Dupin's  suggestion,  I  made  scru 
pulous  examination  of  the  affair  of  the  affidavits.  The 
result  was  a  firm  conviction  of  their  validity,  and  of 
the  consequent  innocence  of  St.  Eustache.  In  the 
meantime  my  friend  occupied  himself,  with  what 
seemed  to  me  a  minuteness  altogether  objectless,  in  a 
s<  utiny  of  the  various  newspaper  files.  At  the 
end  of  a  week  he  placed  before  me  the  following 
extracts : 

"  About  three  years  and  a  half  ago,  a  disturbance 
very  similar  to  the  present  was  caused  by  the  disap 
pearance  of  this  same  Marie  Roget  from  the  parfumerie 
of  Monsieur  Le  Blanc,  in  the  Palais  Royal.  At  the 
end  of  a  week,  however,  she  reappeared  at  her  cus 
tomary  comptoiff  as  well  as  ever,  with  the  exception 
of  a  slight  paleness  not  altogether  usual.  It  was  given 
out  by  Monsieur  Le  Blanc  and  her  mother  that  she 
had  merelv  been  on  a  visit  to  some  friend  hi  the 
country ;  and  the  affair  was  speedily  hushed  up.  We 
presume  that  the  present  absence  is  a  freak  of  the 
same  nature,  and  that,  at  the  expiration  of  a  week  or, 

48 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

perhaps,  of  a  month,  we  shall  have  her  among  us 
again." — Evening  Paper,  Monday,  June  23. 1 

"  An  evening  journal  of  yesterday  refers  to  a  former 
mysterious  disappearance  of  Mademoiselle  Roget.  It 
is  well  known  that,  during  the  week  of  her  absence 
from  Le  Blanc's  parfumerie,  she  was  in  the  company 
of  a  young  naval  officer  much  noted  for  his  debauch 
eries.  A  quarrel,  it  is  supposed,  providentially  led  to 
her  return  home.  We  have  the  name  of  the  Lothario 
in  question,  who  is  at  present  stationed  in  Paris,  but 
for  obvious  reasons  forbear  to  make  it  public." — Le 
Mercure,  Tuesday  Morning,  June  24.* 

"  An  outrage  of  the  most  atrocious  character  was 
perpetrated  near  this  city  the  day  before  yesterd;  y. 
A  gentleman,  with  his  wife  and  daughter,  engaged, 
about  dusk,  the  services  of  six  young  men,  who  were 
idly  rowing  a  boat  to  and  fro  near  the  banks  of  the 
Seine,  to  convey  him  across  the  river.  Upon  reaching 
the  opposite  shore  the  three  passengers  stepped  out,  and 
had  proceeded  so  far  as  to  be  beyond  the  view  of  the 
boat,  when  the  daughter  discovered  that  she  had  left 
in  it  her  parasol.  She  returned  for  it,  was  seized  by 
the  gang,  carried  out  into  the  stream,  gagged,  brutally 
treated,  and  finally  taken  to  the  shore  at  a  point  riot 
far  from  that  at  which  she  had  originally  entered  the 
boat  with  her  parents.  The  villains  have  escaped  for 


1  New  York  Express. 

»  New  York  Herald 

VOL,  V.— 4* 


49 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog6t 

the  time,  but  the  police  are  upon  their  trail,  and  somt 
of  them  will  soon  be  taken." — Morning  Paper,  June 

25-1 

"  We  have  received  one  or  two  communications,  the 
object  of  which  is  to  fasten  the  crime  of  the  late  atrocity 
upon  Mennais  2 ;  but  as  this  gentleman  has  been  fully 
exonerated  by  a  legal  inquiry,  and  as  the  arguments  of 
our  several  correspondents  appear  to  be  more  zealous 
than  profound,  we  do  not  think  it  advisable  to  make 
them  public." — Morning  Paper,  June  28." 

"  We  have  received  several  forcibly  written  com 
munications,  apparently  from  various  sources,  and 
which  go  far  to  render  it  a  matter  of  certainty  that 
the  unfortunate  Marie  Roget  has  become  a  victim  of 
one  of  the  numerous  bands  of  blackguards  which  infest 
the  vicinity  of  the  city  upon  Sunday.  Our  own  opinion 
is  decidedly  in  favor  of  this  supposition.  We  shall 
endeavor  to  make  room  for  some  of  these  arguments 
hereafter." — Evening  Paper,  Tuesday,  June  31.* 

"  On  Monday,  one  of  the  bargemen  connected  with 
the  revenue  service  saw  an  empty  boat  floating  down 
the  Seine.  Sails  were  lying  hi  the  bottom  of  the  boat. 
The  bargeman  towed  it  under  the  barge  office.  The 
next  morning  it  was  taken  from  thence  without  the 


1  New  York  Courier  and  Inquiter. 

2  Mennais  was  one  of  the  parties  originally  suspected  and  arrested,  but  dis 
charged  through  total  lack  of  evidence. 

3  New  York  Courier  and  Inquirer. 
*  New  York  Evening  Pof 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

knowledge  of  any  of  the  officers.  The  rudder  is  now 
at  the  barge  office." — La  Diligence,  Thursday,  June  26.' 

Upon  reading  these  various  extracts,  they  not  only 
seemed  to  me  irrelevant,  but  I  could  perceive  no  mode 
in  which  any  one  of  them  could  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  the  matter  in  hand.  I  waited  for  some  ex 
planation  from  Dupin. 

"  It  is  not  my  present  design,"  he  said,  "to  dwell  upon 
the  first  and  second  of  these  extracts.  I  have  copied 
them  chiefly  to  show  you  the  extreme  remissness  of 
the  police,  who,  as  far  as  I  can  understand  from  the 
Prefect,  have  not  troubled  themselves,  in  any  respect, 
with  an  examination  of  the  naval  officer  alluded  to. 
Yet  it  is  mere  folly  to  say  that  between  the  first  and 
second  disappearance  of  Marie  there  is  no  supposable 
connection.  Let  us  admit  the  first  elopement  to  have 
resulted  in  a  quarrel  between  the  lovers,  and  the  return 
home  of  the  betrayed.  We  are  now  prepared  to  view 
a  second  elopement  (if  we  know  that  an  elopement 
has  again  taken  place)  as  indicating  a  renewal  of  the 
betrayer's  advances,  rather  than  as  the  result  of  new 
proposals  by  a  second  individual,  we  are  prepared  to 
regard  it  as  a  *  making  up  '  of  the  old  amour,  rather 
than  as  the  commencement  of  a  new  one.  The 
chances  are  ten  to  one  that  he  who  had  once  eloped 
with  Marie  would  again  propose  an  elopement  rather 
than  that  she  to  whom  proposals  of  elopement  had  been 

1  New  York  Standard. 

51 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

made  by  one  individual  should  have  them  made  to  her 
by  another.  And  here  let  me  call  your  attention  to 
the  fact  that  the  time  elapsing  between  the  first 
ascertained  and  the  second  supposed  elopement  is  a 
few  months  more  than  the  general  period  of  the 
cruises  of  our  men-of-war.  Had  the  lover  been  in 
terrupted  in  his  first  villany  by  the  necessity  of  de 
parture  to  sea,  and  had  he  seized  the  first  moment  of 
his  return  to  renew  the  base  designs  not  yet  altogether 
accomplished,  or  not  yet  altogether  accomplished  by 
him  ?  Of  all  these  things  we  know  nothing. 

"  You  will  say,  however,  that,  in  the  second  instance, 
there  was  no  elopement  as  imagined.  Certainly  not; 
but  are  we  prepared  to  say  that  there  was  not  the 
frustrated  design  ?  Beyond  St.  Eustache,  and  per 
haps  Beauvais,  we  find  no  recognized,  no  open,  no 
honorable  suitors  of  Marie.  Of  none  other  is  there 
anything  said.  Who,  then,  is  the  secret  lover,  of' 
whom  the  relatives  (at  least  most  of  them)  know 
nothing,  but  whom  Marie  meets  upon  the  morning  of 
Sunday,  and  who  is  so  deeply  in  her  confidence  that 
she  hesitates  not  to  remain  with  him  until  the  shades 
of  the  evening  descend,  amid  the  solitary  groves  of 
the  Barriere  du  Roule  ?  Who  is  that  secret  lover,  I 
ask,  of  whom,  at  least,  most  of  the  relatives  know 
nothing  ?  And  what  means  the  singular  prophecy  of 
Madame  Roget  on  the  morning  of  Marie's  departure^ 
'  I  fear  that  I  shall  never  see  Marie  again '  ? 

52 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

"  But  if  we  cannot  imagine  Madame  Roget  privy  to 
the  design  of  elopement,  may  we  not  at  least  suppose 
this  design  entertained  by  the  girl  ?  Upon  quitting 
home,  she  gave  it  to  be  understood  that  she  was  about 
to  visit  her  aunt  in  the  Rue  des  Dromes,  and  St. 
Eustache  was  requested  to  call  for  her  at  dark.  Now, 
at  first  glance,  this  fact  strongly  militates  against  my 
suggestion ;  but  let  us  reflect.  That  she  did  meet  some 
companion,  and  proceed  with  him  across  the  river, 
reaching  the  Barriere  du  Roule  at  so  late  an  hour  as 
three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  is  known.  But  in  con 
senting  so  to  accompany  this  individual,  (for  whatever 
purpose,  to  her  mother  known  or  unknown,)  she  must 
have  thought  of  her  expressed  intention  when  leaving 
home,  and  of  the  surprise  and  suspicion  aroused  in 
the  bosom  of  her  affianced  suitor,  St.  Eustache,  when, 
calling  for  her,  at  the  hour  appointed,  in  the  Rue  des 
Dromes,  he  should  find  that  she  had  not  been  there, 
and  when,  moreover,  upon  returning  to  the  pension 
with  this  alarming  intelligence,  he  should  become 
aware  of  her  continued  absence  from  home.  She 
must  have  thought  of  these  things,  I  say.  She  must 
have  foreseen  the  chagrin  of  St.  Eustache,  the  suspicion 
of  all.  She  could  not  have  thought  of  returning  to 
brave  this  suspicion;  but  the  suspicion  becomes  a 
point  of  trivial  importance  to  her,  if  we  suppose  her 
not  intending  to  return. 

"  We  may  imagine  her  thinking  thus :  *  I  am  to  meet 
53 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

a  certain  person  for  the  purpose  of  elopement,  or  for 
certain  other  purposes  known  only  to  myself.  It  is 
necessary  that  there  be  no  chance  of  interruption, 
there  must  be  sufficient  time  given  us  to  elude  pursuit ; 
I  will  give  it  to  be  understood  that  I  shall  visit  and 
spend  the  day  with  my  aunt  at  the  Rue  des  Dromes; 
I  will  tell  St.  Eustache  not  to  call  for  me  until  dark; 
in  this  way,  my  absence  from  home  for  the  longest 
possible  period,  without  causing  suspicion  or  anxiety, 
will  be  accounted  for,  and  I  shall  gain  more  time  than 
in  any  other  manner.  If  I  bid  St.  Eustache  call  for 
me  at  dark,  he  will  be  sure  not  to  call  before;  but  if 
I  wholly  neglect  to  bid  him  call,  my  time  for  escape 
will  be  diminished,  since  it  will  be  expected  that  I  re 
turn  the  earlier,  and  my  absence  will  the  sooner  excite 
anxiety.  Now,  if  it  were  my  design  to  return  at  all, 
if  I  had  in  contemplation  merely  a  stroll  with  the 
individual  in  question,  it  would  not  be  my  policy  to 
bid  St.  Eustache  call;  for,  calling,  he  will  be  sure  to 
ascertain  that  I  have  played  him  false,  a  fact  of  which 
I  might  keep  him  forever  in  ignorance  by  leaving 
home  without  notifying  him  of  my  intention,  by  re 
turning  before  dark,  and  by  then  stating  that  I  had 
been  to  visit  my  aunt  in  the  Rue  des  Dromes.  But, 
as  it  is  my  design  never  to  return,  or  not  for  some 
weeks,  or  not  until  certain  concealments  are  effected, 
the  gaining  of  time  is  the  only  point  about  which  I 
need  give  myself  any  concern.' 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog£t 

"  You  have  observed,  in  your  notes,  that  the  most 
general  opinion  in  relation  to  this  sad  affair  is,  and 
was  from  the  first,  that  the  girl  had  been  the  victim 
of  a  gang  of  blackguards.  Now,  the  popular  opinion, 
under  certain  conditions,  is  not  to  be  disregarded. 
When  arising  of  itself,  when  manifesting  itself  in  a 
strictly  spontaneous  manner,  we  should  look  upon  it 
as  analogous  with  that  intuition  which  is  the  idiosyn 
crasy  of  the  individual  man  of  genius.  In  ninety- 
nine  cases  from  the  hundred  I  would  abide  by  its 
decision.  But  it  is  important  that  we  find  no  palpable 
traces  of  suggestion.  The  opinion  must  be  rigorously 
the  public's  own;  and  the  distinction  is  often  exceed 
ingly  difficult  to  perceive  and  to  maintain.  In  the 
present  instance  it  appears  to  me  that  this  *  public 
opinion,'  in  respect  to  a  gang,  has  been  superinduced 
by  the  collateral  event  which  is  detailed  in  the  third 
of  my  extracts.  All  Paris  is  excited  by  the  discovered 
corpse  of  Marie,  a  girl  young,  beautiful,  and  notorious. 
This  corpse  is  found,  bearing  marks  of  violence,  and 
floating  in  the  river.  But  it  is  now  made  known  that, 
at  the  very  period  or  about  the  very  period  in  which 
it  is  supposed  that  the  girl  was  assassinated,  an  out 
rage  similar  in  nature  to  that  endured  by  the  deceased, 
although  less  in  extent,  was  perpetrated  by  a  gang  of 
young  ruffians,  upon  the  person  of  a  second  young 
female.  Is  it  wonderful  that  the  one  known  atrocity 
should  influence  the  popular  judgment  in  regard  to 

55 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

the  other  unknown  ?  This  judgment  awaited  direc 
tion,  and  the  known  outrage  seemed  so  opportunely  to 
afford  it!  Marie,  too,  was  found  in  the  river;  and 
upon  this  very  river  was  this  known  outrage  committed. 
The  connection  of  the  two  events  had  about"  it  so 
much  of  the  palpable,  that  the  true  wonder  would  have 
been  a  failure  of  the  populace  to  appreciate  and  to 
seize  it.  But,  in  fact,  the  one  atrocity  known  to  be 
so  committed  is,  if  anything,  evidence  that  the  other, 
committed  at  a  time  nearly  coincident,  was  not  so 
committed.  It  would  have  been  a  miracle  indeed,  if, 
while  a  gang  of  ruffians  were  perpetrating,  at  a  given 
locality,  a  most  unheard-of  wrong,  there  should  have 
been  another  similar  gang,  in  a  similar  locality,  in 
the  same  city,  under  the  same  circumstances,  with 
the  same  means  and  appliances,  engaged  in  a  wrong 
of  precisely  the  same  aspect,  at  precisely  the  same 
period  of  time !  Yet  in  what,  if  not  in  this  marvel 
lous  train  of  coincidence,  does  the  accidentally  sug 
gested  opinion  of  the  populace  call  upon  us  to  believe  ? 
"  Before  proceeding  further,  let  us  consider  the 
supposed  scene  of  the  assassination,  in  the  thicket  at 
the  Barriere  du  Roule.  This  thicket,  although  dense, 
was  in  the  close  vicinity  of  a  public  road.  Within 
were  three  or  four  large  stones,  forming  a  kind  of  seat 
with  a  back  and  a  footstool.  On  the  upper  stone  was 
discovered  a  white  petticoat;  on  the  second,  a  silk 
scarf.  A  parasol,  gloves,  and  a  pocket-handkerchief 

56 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

were  also  here  found.  The  handkerchief  bore  the 
name  '  Marie  Roget.'  Fragments  of  dress  were  seen 
on  the  branches  around.  The  earth  was  trampled,  the 
bushes  were  broken,  and  there  was  every  evidence  of  a 
violent  struggle. 

"  Notwithstanding  the  acclamation  with  which  the 
discovery  of  this  thicket  was  received  by  the  press,  and 
the  unanimity  with  which  it  was  supposed  to  indicate 
the  precise  scene  of  the  outrage,  it  must  be  admitted 
that  there  was  some  very  good  reason  for  doubt.  That 
it  was  the  scene,  I  may  or  I  may  not  believe;  but 
there  was  excellent  reason  for  doubt.  Had  the  true 
scene  been,  as  Le  Commerciel  suggested,  in  the  neigh 
borhood  of  the  Rue  Pavee  St.  Andre,  the  perpetrators 
of  the  crime,  supposing  them  still  resident  in  Paris, 
would  naturally  have  been  stricken  with  terror  at  the 
public  attention  thus  acutely  directed  into  the  proper 
channel ;  and,  in  certain  classes  of  minds,  there  would 
have  arisen,  at  once,  a  sense  of  the  necessity  of  some 
exertion  to  redivert  this  attention.  And  thus,  the 
thicket  of  the  Barriere  du  Roule  having  been  already 
suspected,  the  idea  of  placing  the  articles  where  they 
were  found  might  have  been  naturally  entertained. 
There  is  no  real  evidence,  although  Le  Soleil  so  sup 
poses,  that  the  articles  discovered  had  been  more  than 
a  very  few  days  in  the  thicket ;  while  there  is  much  cir 
cumstantial  proof  that  they  could  not  have  remained 
there,  without  attracting  attention,  during  the  twenty 

57 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

days  elapsing  between  the  fatal  Sunday  and  the  after 
noon  upon  which  they  were  found  by  the  boys.  *  They 
were  all  mildewed  down  hard,'  says  Le  Soleil,  adopting 
the  opinions  of  its  predecessors,  '  with  the  action  of 
the  rain  and  stuck  together  from  mildew.  The  grass 
had  grown  around  and  over  some  of  them.  The  silk 
of  the  parasol  was  strong,  but  the  threads  of  it  were 
run  together  within.  The  upper  part,  where  it  had 
been  doubled  and  folded,  was  all  mildewed  and  rotten, 
and  tore  on  being  opened.'  In  respect  to  the  grass 
having  *  grown  around  and  over  some  of  them,'  it  is 
obvious  that  the  fact  could  only  have  been  ascertained 
from  the  words,  and  thus  from  the  recollections,  of 
two  small  boys;  for  these  boys  removed  the  articles 
and  took  them  home  before  they  had  been  seen  by  a 
third  party.  But  the  grass  will  grow,  especially  in 
warm  and  damp  weather  (such  as  was  that  of  the 
period  of  the  murder),  as  much  as  two  or  three  inches 
in  a  single  day.  A  parasol  lying  upon  a  newly  turfed 
ground,  might,  in  a  single  week,  be  entirely  concealed 
from  sight  by  the  upspringing  grass.  And  touching 
that  mildew,  upon  which  the  editor  of  Le  Soleil  so 
pertinaciously  insists  that  he  employs  the  word  no  less 
than  three  times  in  the  brief  paragraph  just  quoted, 
is  he  really  unaware  of  the  nature  of  this  mildew  ?  Is 
he  to  be  told  that  it  is  one  of  the  many  classes  of 
fungus,  of  which  the  most  ordinary  feature  is  its  up- 
springing  and  decadence  within  twenty-four  hours  ? 

58 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

"  Thus  we  see,  at  a  glance,  that  what  has  been  most 
triumphantly  adduced  in  support  of  the  idea  that  the 
articles  had  been  «  for  at  least  three  or  four  weeks  '  in 
the  thicket,  is  most  absurdly  null  as  regards  any 
evidence  of  that  fact.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  exceed 
ingly  difficult  to  believe  that  these  articles  could  have 
remained  in  the  thicket  specified  for  a  longer  period 
than  a  single  week,  for  a  longer  period  than  from  one 
Sunday  to  the  next.  Those  who  know  anything  of 
the  vicinity  of  Paris  know  the  extreme  difficulty  of 
finding  seclusion,  unless  at  a  great  distance  from  its 
suburbs.  Such  a  thing  as  an  unexplored  or  even  an 
unfrequently  visited  recess,  amid  its  woods  or  groves? 
is  not  for  a  moment  to  be  imagined.  Let  any  one  who 
being  at  heart  a  lover  of  nature  is  yet  chained  by 
duty  to  the  dust  and  heat  of  this  great  metropolis, 
let  any  such  one  attempt,  even  during  the  week-days, 
to  slake  his  thirst  for  solitude  amid  the  scenes  of 
natural  loveliness  which  immediately  surround  us. 
At  every  second  step,  he  will  find  the  growing  charm 
dispelled  by  the  voice  and  personal  intrusion  of  some 
ruffian  or  party  of  carousing  blackguards.  He  will 
seek  privacy  amid  the  densest  foliage  all  in  vain. 
Here  are  the  very  nooks  where  the  unwashed  most 
abound ;  here  are  the  temples  most  desecrate.  With 
sickness  of  the  heart  the  wanderer  will  flee  back  to 
the  polluted  Paris  as  to  a  less  odious  because  less  in 
congruous  sink  of  pollution.  But  if  the  vicinity  of 

59 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

the  city  is  so  beset  during  the  working  days  of  the 
week,  how  much  more  so  on  the  Sabbath !  It  is  now 
especially  that,  released  from  the  claims  of  labor  or 
deprived  of  the  customary  opportunities  of  crime,  the 
town  blackguard  seeks  the  precincts  of  the  town,  not 
through  love  of  the  rural,  which  in  his  heart  he 
despises,  but  by  way  of  escape  from  the  restraints  and 
conventionalities  of  society.  He  desires  less  the  fresh 
air  and  the  green  trees  than  the  utter  license  of  the 
country.  Here,  at  the  roadside  inn,  or  beneath  the 
foliage  of  the  woods,  he  indulges,  unchecked  by  any 
eye  except  those  of  his  boon  companions,  in  all  the 
mad  excess  of  a  counterfeit  hilarity,  the  joint  offspring 
of  liberty  and  of  rum.  I  say  nothing  more  than  what 
must  be  obvious  to  every  dispassionate  observer,  when 
I  repeat  that  the  circumstance  of  the  articles  in  ques 
tion  having  remained  undiscovered  for  a  longer  period 
than  from  one  Sunday  to  another  in  any  thicket  in 
the  immediate  neighborhood  of  Paris,  is  to  be  looked 
upon  as  little  less  than  miraculous. 

"  But  there  are  not  wanting  other  grounds  for  the 
suspicion  that  the  articles  were  placed  in  the  thicket 
with  the  view  of  diverting  attention  from  the  real 
scene  of  the  outrage.  And  first  let  me  direct  your 
notice  to  the  date  of  the  discovery  of  the  articles. 
Collate  this  with  the  date  of  the  fifth  extract  made  by 
myself  from  the  newspapers.  You  will  find  that  the 
discovery  followed  almost  immediately  the  urgent 

60 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog£t 

communications  sent  to  the  evening  paper.  These  com 
munications,  although  various,  and  apparently  from 
various  sources,  tended  all  to  the  same  point,  viz., 
the  directing  of  attention  to  a  gang  as  the  perpetrators 
of  the  outrage,  and  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  Barriere 
du  Roule  as  its  scene.  Now  here,  of  course,  the  situ 
ation  is  not  that,  in  consequence  of  these  communi 
cations,  or  of  the  public  attention  by  them  directed, 
the  articles  were  found  by  the  boys ;  but  the  suspicion 
might  and  may  well  have  been  that  the  articles  were 
not  before  found  by  the  boys  for  the  reason  that  the 
articles  had  not  before  been  in  the  thicket;  having 
been  deposited  there  only  at  so  late  a  period  as  at  the 
date,  or  shortly  prior  to  the  date,  of  the  communica7 
tions  by  the  guilty  authors  of  these  communications 
themselves. 

"  This  thicket  was  a  singular,  an  exceedingly  singu 
lar  one.  It  was  unusually  dense.  Within  its  naturally 
walled  enclosure  were  three  extraordinary  stones, 
forming  a  seat  with  a  back  and  a  footstool.  And 
this  thicket,  so  full  of  art,  was  in  the  immediate 
vicinity,  within  a  few  rods,  of  the  dwelling  of  Madame 
Deluc,  whose  boys  were  in  the  habit  of  closely  ex 
amining  the  shrubberies  about  them  in  search  of  the 
bark  of  the  sassafras.  Would  it  be  a  rash  wager,  a 
wager  of  one  thousand  to  one,  that  a  day  never  passed 
over  the  heads  of  these  boys  without  finding  at  least 
one  of  them  ensconced  in  the  umbrageous  hall,  and 

61 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

enthroned  upon  its  natural  throne  ?  Those  who 
would  hesitate  at  such  a  wager  have  either  never 
been  boys  themselves,  or  have  forgotten  the  boyish 
nature.  I  repeat,  it  is  exceedingly  hard  to  compre 
hend  how  the  articles  could  have  remained  in  this 
thicket,  undiscovered,  for  a  longer  period  than  one  or 
two  days;  and  that  thus  there  is  good  ground  for 
suspicion,  in  spite  of  the  dogmatic  ignorance  of  Le 
Soleilf  that  they  were  at  a  comparatively  late  date 
deposited  where  found. 

"  But  there  are  still  other  and  stronger  reasons  for 
believing  them  so  deposited  than  any  which  I  have  as 
yet  urged.  And  now  let  me  beg  your  notice  to  the 
highly  artificial  arrangement  of  the  articles.  On  the 
upper  stone  lay  a  white  petticoat ;  on  the  second,  a  silk 
scarf;  scattered  around,  were  a  parasol,  gloves,  and 
a  pocket-handkerchief  bearing  the  name  '  Marie 
Roget.'  Here  is  just  such  an  arrangement  as  would 
naturally  be  made  by  a  not-over-acute  person  wishing 
to  dispose  the  articles  naturally.  But  it  is  by  no  means 
a  really  natural  arrangement.  I  should  rather  have 
looked  to  see  the  things  all  lying  on  the  ground  and 
trampled  under  foot.  In  the  narrow  limits  of  that 
bower,  it  would  have  been  scarcely  possible  that  the 
petticoat  and  scarf  should  have  retained  a  position 
upon  the  stones,  when  subjected  to  the  brushing  to  and 
fro  of  many  struggling  persons.  '  There  was  evidence,' 
ft  is  said,  '  of  a  struggle ;  and  the  earth  was  trampled, 

62 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

the  bushes  were  broken,'  but  the  petticoat  and  the 
scarf  are  found  deposited  as  if  upon  shelves.  *  The 
pieces  of  the  frock  torn  out  by  the  bushes  were  about 
three  inches  wide  and  six  inches  long.  One  part  was 
the  hem  of  the  frock  and  it  had  been  mended.  They 
looked  like  strips  torn  off.'  Here,  inadvertently,  Le 
Soleil  has  employed  an  exceedingly  suspicious  phrase. 
The  pieces,  as  described,  do  indeed  '  look  like  strips 
torn  off ' ;  but  purposely  and  by  hand.  It  is  one  of 
the  rarest  of  accidents  that  a  piece  is  '  torn  off '  from 
any  garment  such  as  is  now  in  question,  by  the  agency 
of  a  thorn.  From  the  very  nature  of  such  fabrics,  a 
thorn  or  nail  becoming  tangled  in  them  tears  them 
rectangularly,  divides  them  into  two  longitudinal  rents 
at  right  angles  with  each  other,  and  meeting  at  an 
apex  where  the  thorn  enters,  but  it  is  scarcely  possible 
to  conceive  the  piece  '  torn  off.'  I  never  so  knew  it, 
nor  did  you.  To  tear  a  piece  off  from  such  fabric, 
two  distinct  forces  in  different  directions,  will  be  in 
almost  every  case  required.  If  there  be  two  edges 
to  the  fabric, — if,  for  example,  it  be  a  pocket-handker 
chief,  and  it  is  desired  to  tear  from  it  a  slip,  then,  and 
then  only,  will  the  one  force  serve  the  purpose.  But 
in  the  present  case  the  question  is  of  a  dress,  presenting 
but  one  edge.  To  tear  a  piece  from  the  interior,  where 
no  edge  is  presented,  could  only  be  effected  by  a 
miracle  through  the  agency  of  thorns,  and  no  one 
thorn  could  accomplish  it.  But,  even  where  an  edge 

63 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog6t 

is  presented,  two  thorns  will  be  necessary,  operating 
the  one  in  two  distinct  directions,  and  the  other  in  one 
And  this  in  the  supposition  that  the  edge  is  unhemmed 
If  hemmed,  the  matter  is  nearly  out  of  the  question 
We  thus  see  the  numerous  and  great  obstacles  in  thi 
way  of  pieces  being  '  torn  off '  through  the  simpl< 
agency  of  *  thorns  ' ;  yet  we  are  required  to  believ< 
not  only  that  one  piece,  but  that  many,  have  been  s< 
torn.  '  And  one  part,'  too,  '  was  the  hem  of  thi 
frock  ' !  Another  piece  was  l  part  of  the  skirt,  no 
the  hem,'  that  is  to  say,  was  torn  completely  out 
through  the  agency  of  thorns,  from  the  unedged  in 
terior  of  the  dress!  These,  I  say,  are  things  whicl 
one  may  well  be  pardoned  for  disbelieving ;  yet,  takei 
collectedly,  they  form,  perhaps,  less  of  reasonabli 
ground  for  suspicion  than  the  one  startling  circum 
stance  of  the  articles  having  been  left  in  this  thicke 
at  all,  by  any  murderers  who  had  enough  precaution  t< 
think  of  removing  the  corpse.  You  will  not  hav< 
apprehended  me  rightly,  however,  if  you  suppose  i 
my  design  to  deny  this  thicket  as  the  scene  of  th< 
outrage.  There  might  have  been  a  wrong  here,  or 
more  possibly,  an  accident  at  Madame  Deluc's.  But 
in  fact,  this  is  a  point  of  minor  importance.  We  an 
not  engaged  in  an  attempt  to  discover  the  scene,  bu 
to  produce  the  perpetrators  of  the  murder.  What  '. 
have  adduced,  notwithstanding  the  minuteness  witl 
which  I  have  adduced  it,  has  been  with  the  view,  first 

64 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

to  show  the  folly  of  the  positive  and  headlong  assertions 
of  Le  Soleilf  but,  secondly  and  chiefly,  to  bring  you, 
by  the  most  natural  route,  to  a  further  contemplation 
of  the  doubt  whether  this  assassination  has,  or  has 
not,  been  the  work  of  a  gang. 

"  We  will  resume  this  question  by  mere  allusion  to 
the  revolting  details  of  the  surgeon  examined  at  the  I 
inquest.  It  is  only  necessary  to  say  that  his  published 
inferences,  in  regard  to  the  number  of  the  ruffians, 
have  been  properly  ridiculed  as  unjust  and  totally  base 
less,  by  all  the  reputable  anatomists  of  Paris.  Not 
that  the  matter  might  not  have  been  as  inferred,  but 
that  there  was  no  ground  for  the  inference :  was  there 
not  much  for  another  ? 

"  Let  us  reflect  now  upon  *  the  traces  of  a  struggle  ' ; 
and  let  me  ask  what  these  traces  have  been  supposed 
to  demonstrate.  A  gang.  But  do  they  not  rather 
demonstrate  the  absence  of  a  gang  ?  What  struggle 
could  have  taken  place,  what  struggle  so  violent  and 
so  enduring  as  to  have  left  its  '  traces  '  in  all  directions, 
between  a  weak  and  defenceless  girl  and  the  gang  of 
ruffians  imagined  ?  The  silent  grasp  of  a  few  rough 
arms  and  all  would  have  been  over.  The  victim  must 
iave  been  absolutely  passive  at  their  will.  You  will 
lere  bear  in  mind  that  the  arguments  urged  against  the 
hicket  as  the  scene  are  applicable,  in  chief  part,  only 
igainst  it  as  the  scene  of  an  outrage  committed  by 
nore  than  a  single  individual.  If  we  imagine  but  one 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

violator,  we  can  conceive,  and  thus  only  conceive, 
the  struggle  of  so  violent  and  so  obstinate  a  nature  as 
to  have  left  the  '  traces  '  apparent. 

"  And  again.     I  have  already  mentioned  the  sus 
picion  to  be  excited  by  the  fact  that  the  articles  ir 
question  were  suffered  to  remain  at  all  in  the  thickei 
where  discovered.     It  seems  almost  impossible  tha 
these  evidences  of  guilt  should  have  been  accidentally 
left  where  found.     There  was  sufficient  presence  o 
mind  (it  is  supposed)  to  remove  the  corpse ;  and  yet  j 
more  positive  evidence  than  the  corpse  itself  (whos 
features  might  have  been  quickly  obliterated  by  decay 
is  allowed  to  lie  conspicuously  in  the  scene  of  the  out 
rage ;  I  allude  to  the  handkerchief  with  the  name  c 
the  deceased.     If  this  was  accident,  it  was  not  the  acci 
dent  of  a  gang.     We  can  imagine  it  only  the  accider 
of  an  individual.     Let  us  see.     An  individual  has  coir 
mitted  the  murder.     He  is  alone  with  the  ghost  of  tt 
departed.     He  is  appalled  by  what  lies  motionless  b< 
fore  him.     The  fury  of  his  passion  is  over,  and  the] 
is  abundant  room  in  his  heart  for  the  natural  awe  « 
the  deed.     His  is  none  of  that  confidence  which  tl 
presence  of  numbers  inevitably  inspires.     He  is  aloi 
with  the  dead.     He  trembles  and  is  bewildered.     Y 
there  is  a  necessity  for  disposing  of  the  corpse.     I 
bears  it  to  the  river,  and  leaves  behind  him  the  oth 
evidences  of  his  guilt;    for  it  is  difficult,  if  not  in 
possible,  to  carry  all  the  burden  at  once,  and  it  w 

66 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

be  easy  to  return  for  what  is  left.  But  in  his  toilsome 
journey  to  the  water  his  fears  redouble  within  him. 
The  sounds  of  life  encompass  his  path.  A  dozen  times 
he  hears,  or  fancies  he  hears,  the  step  of  an  observer. 
Even  the  very  lights  from  the  city  bewilder  him.  Yet, 
in  time,  and  by  long  and  frequent  pauses  of  deep 
agony,  he  reaches  the  river's  brink  and  disposes  of 
his  ghastly  charge,  perhaps  through  the  medium  of  a 
boat.  But  now  what  treasure  does  the  world  hold, 
what  threat  of  vengence  could  it  hold  out,  which 
would  have  power  to  urge  the  return  of  that  lonely 
murderer  over  that  toilsome  and  perilous  path,  to  the 
thicket  and  its  blood-chilling  recollections  ?  He  re 
turns  not,  let  the  consequences  be  what  they  may. 
He  could  not  return  if  he  would.  His  sole  thought  is 
immediate  escape.  He  turns  his  back  forever  upon 
those  dreadful  shrubberies,  and  flees  as  from  the  wrath 
:o  come. 

"  But  how  with  a  gang  ?  Their  number  would  have 
inspired  them  with  confidence;  if,  indeed,  confidence 
is  ever  wanting  in  the  breast  of  the  arrant  blackguard; 
^nd  of  arrant  blackguards  alone  are  the  supposed  gangs 
fyer  constituted.  Their  number,  I  say,  would  have 
prevented  the  bewildering  and  unreasoning  terror 
ivhich  I  have  imagined  to  paralyze  the  single  man, 
3ould  we  suppose  an  oversight  in  one,  or  two,  or 
hree,  this  oversight  would  have  been  remedied  by  a 
ourth.  They  would  have  left  nothing  behind  them; 

67 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

for  their  number  would  have  enabled  them  to  carry 

all  at  once.     There  would  have  been  no  need  of  return. 

"  Consider  now  the  circumstance  that,  in  the  outer 

garment  of  the  corpse  when  found,  *  a  slip,  about  a 

foot  wide,  had  been  torn  upward  from  the  bottom 

hem  to  the  waist,  wound  three  times  round  the  waist 

and  secured  by  a  sort  of  hitch  in  the  back.'     This  was 

done  with  the  obvious  design  of  affording  a  handle  b] 

which  to  carry  the  body.     But  would  any  number  o 

men  have  dreamed  of  resorting  to  such  an  expedient ' 

To  three  or  four,  the  limbs  of  the  corpse  would  hav« 

afforded  not  only  a  sufficient,  but  the  best  possible 

hold.     The  device  is  that  of  a  single  individual;    am 

this  brings  us  to  the  fact  that  *  between  the  thicke 

and  the  river  the  rails  of  the  fences  were  found  take] 

down,  and  the  ground  bore  evident  traces  of  som 

heavy  burden  having  been  dragged  along  it ! '     BU 

would  a  number  of  men  have  put  themselves  to  th 

superfluous  trouble  of  taking   down  a  fence  for  th 

purpose  of  dragging  through  it  a  corpse  which  the 

might   have   lifted   over   any   fence   in   an  instant 

Would  a  number  of  men  have  so  dragged  a  corpse  £ 

all  as  to  have  left  evident  traces  of  the  dragging  ? 

"  And  here  we  must  refer  to  an  observation  of  L 
Commercielf  an  observation  upon  which  I  ha\ 
already,  in  some  measure,  commented.  *  A  piece 
says  this  journal,  *  of  one  of  the  unfortunate  girl 
petticoats  was  torn  out  and  tied  under  her  chin, 

68 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog€t 

thing  like  a  rope  to  one  of  the  extremities.     It  could 
be   best   attached   about  the   neck,   where   the  head 
would  prevent  its  slipping  off.     And  now  the  murderer 
bethought  him,  unquestionably,  of  the  bandage  about 
the  loins.     He  would  have  used  this  but  for  its  volu 
tion  about  the  corpse,  the  hitch  which  embarrassed  it, 
and  the  reflection  that  it  had  not  been  *  torn  off '  from 
the  garment.     It  was  easier  to  tear  a  new  slip  from 
the  petticoat.     He  tore  it,  made  it  fast  about  the  neck, 
and  so  dragged  his  victim  to  the  brink  of  the  river. 
That  this  4  bandage,1  only  attainable  with  trouble  and 
delay,  and  but  imperfectly  answering  its  purpose,— that 
this  bandage  was  employed  at  all,  demonstrates  that 
the  necessity  for  its  employment  sprang  from  circum 
stances  arising  at  a  period  when  the  handkerchief  was 
no  longer  attainable ;  that  is  to  say,  arising,  as  we  have 
imagined,  after  quitting  the  thicket  (if  the  thicket  it 
was),  and  on  the  road  between  the  thicket  and  the  river. 
"  But  the  evidence,  you  will  say,  of  Madam  Deluc  ( !) 
points  especially  to  the  presence  of  a  gang  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  thicket,  at  or  about  the  epoch  of  the 
murder.     This  I  grant.     I  doubt  if  there  were  not  a 
dozen  gangs,  such  as  described  by  Madame  Deluc,  ir 
and  about  the  vicinity  of  the  Barriere  du  Roule  at  O] 
about  the  period  of  this  tragedy.     But  the  gang  whicl: 
has   drawn   upon   itself   the   pointed   animadversion 
although  the  somewhat  tardy  and  very  suspicious  evi 
dence,  of  Madame  Deluc,  is  the  only  gang  which  i 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

represented  by  that  honest  and  scrupulous  old  lady  as 
having  eaten  her  cakes  and  swallowed  her  brandy 
without  putting  themselves  to  the  trouble  of  making 
her  payment.  Et  hinc  illae  irx  / 

"  But  what  is  the  precise  evidence  of  Madame  Deluc? 
*  A  gang  of  miscreants  made  their  appearance,  be 
haved  boisterously,  ate  and  drank  without  making 
payment,  followed  in  the  route  of  the  young  man  and 
the  girl,  returned  to  the  inn  about  dusk,  and  recrossed 
the  river  as  if  in  great  haste.' 

"  Now  this  *  great  haste '  very  possibly  seemed 
greater  haste  in  the  eyes  of  Madame  Deluc,  since  she 
dwelt  lingeringly  and  lamentingly  upon  her  violated 
cakes  and  ale — cakes  and  ale  for  which  she  might  still 
have  entertained  a  faint  hope  of  compensation.  Why, 
otherwise,  since  it  was  about  dusk,  should  she  make 
a  point  of  the  haste  ?  It  is  no  cause  for  wonder,  surely, 
that  even  a  gang  of  blackguards  should  make  haste  to 
get  home  when  a  wide  river  is  to  be  crossed  in  small 
boats,  when  storm  impends,  and  when  night  ap 
proaches. 

"  I  say  approaches ;  for  the  night  had  not  yet  ar 
rived.  It  was  only  about  dusk  that  the  indecent  haste 
of  these  '  miscreants '  offended  the  sober  eyes  of 
Madame  Deluc.  But  we  are  told  that  it  was  upon 
this  very  evening  that  Madame  Deluc,  as  well  as  her 
eldest  son,  '  heard  the  screams  of  a  female  in  the 
vicinity  of  the  inn.'  And  in  what  words  does  Madame 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Rog6t 

Beluc  designate  the  period  of  the  evening  at  which 
these  screams  were  heard  ?  *  It  was  soon  after  dark,' 
she  says.  But  *  soon  after  dark  *  is,  at  least,  dark ; 
and  *  about  dusk '  is  as  certainly  daylight.  Thus  it 
is  abundantly  clear  that  the  gang  quitted  the  Barriere 
du  Roule  prior  to  the  screams  overheard  (?)  by 
Madame  Deluc.  And  although,  in  all  the  many  re 
ports  of  the  evidence,  the  relative  expressions  in  ques 
tion  are  distinctly  and  invariably  employed  just  as  I 
have  employed  them  in  this  conversation  with  your 
self,  no  notice  whatever  of  the  gross  discrepancy  has, 
as  yet,  been  taken  by  any  of  the  public  journals,  or 
by  any  of  the  myrmidons  of  police. 

"  I  shall  add  but  one  to  the  arguments  against  a 
gang;  but  this  one  has,  to  my  own  understanding  at 
least,  a  weight  altogether  irresistible.  Under  the  cir 
cumstances  of  large  reward  offered,  and  full  pardon 
to  any  king's  evidence,  it  is  not  to  be  imagined,  for  a 
moment,  that  some  member  of  a  gang  of  low  ruffians, 
or  of  any  body  of  men,  would  not  long  ago  have  be 
trayed  his  accomplices.  Each  one  of  a  gang,  so 
placed,  is  not  so  much  greedy  of  reward,  or  anxious 
for  escape,  as  fearful  of  betrayal.  He  betrays  eagerly 
and  early  that  he  may  not  himself  be  betrayed.  That 
the  secret  has  not  been  divulged  is  the  very  best  of 
proof  that  it  is,  in  fact,  a  secret.  The  horrors  of  this 
dark  deed  are  known  only  to  one,  or  two,  living 
human  beings,  and  to  God. 

72 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

"  Let  us  sum  up  now  the  meagre  yet  certain  fruits  of 
our  long  analysis.  We  have  attained  the  idea  either 
of  a  fatal  accident  under  the  roof  of  Madame  Deluc, 
or  of  a  murder  perpetrated  in  the  thicket  at  the 
Barriere  du  Roule  by  a  lover,  or  at  least  by  an  intimate 
and  secret  associate  of  the  deceased.  This  associate 
is  of  swarthy  complexion.  This  complexion,  the  *  hitch ' 
in  the  bandage,  and  the  '  sailor's  knot '  with  which  the 
bonnet-ribbon  is  tied,  point  to  a  seaman.  His  com 
panionship  with  the  deceased,  a  gay  but  not  an  abject 
young  girl,  designates  him. as  above  the  grade  of  the 
common  sailor.  Here  the  well-written  and  urgent 
communications  to  the  journals  are  much  in  the  way 
of  corroboration.  The  circumstance  of  the  first  elope 
ment,  as  mentioned  by  Le  Mercure,  tends  to  blend 
the  idea  of  this  seaman  with  that  of  the  *  naval  officer  > 
who  is  first  known  to  have  led  the  unfortunate  into 
crime. 

"  And  here,  most  fitly,  comes  the  consideration  of 
the  continued  absence  of  him  of  the  dark  complexion. 
Let  me  pause  to  observe  that  the  complexion  of  this 
man  is  dark  and  swarthy ;  it  was  no  common  swarthi- 
ness  which  constituted  the  sole  point  of  remembrance 
both  as  regards  Valence  and  Madame  Deluc.  But 
why  is  this  man  absent  ?  Was  he  murdered  by  the 
gang  ?  If  so,  why  are  there  only  traces  of  the  assas 
sinated  girl  ?  The  scene  of  the  two  outrages  will 
naturally  be  supposed  identical.  And  where  is  his 

73 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

corpse  ?  The  assassins  would  most  probably  have 
disposed  of  both  in  the  same  way.  But  it  may  be  said 
that  this  man  lives,  and  is  deterred  from  making  him 
self  known  through  dread  of  being  charged  with  the 
murder.  This  consideration  might  be  supposed  to 
operate  upon  him  now,  at  this  late  period,  since  it  has 
been  given  in  evidence  that  he  was  seen  with  Marie, 
but  it  would  have  had  no  force  at  the  period  of  the 
deed.  The  first  impulse  of  an  innocent  man  would 
have  been  to  announce  the  outrage,  and  to  aid  in 
identifying  the  ruffians.  This,  policy  would  have  sug 
gested.  He  had  been  seen  with  the  girl.  He  had 
crossed  the  river  with  her  in  an  open  ferry-boat.  The 
denouncing  of  the  assassins  would  have  appeared, 
even  to  an  idiot,  the  surest  and  sole  means  of  relieving 
himself  from  suspicion.  We  cannot  suppose  him  on 
the  night  of  the  fatal  Sunday  both  innocent  himself 
and  incognizant  of  an  outrage  committed.  Yet  only 
under  such  circumstances  is  it  possible  to  imagine  that 
he  would  have  failed,  if  alive,  in  the  denouncement  of 
the  assassins. 

"  And  what  means  are  ours  of  attaining  the  truth  ? 
We  shall  find  these  means  multiplying  and  gathering 
distinctness  as  we  proceed.  Let  us  sift  to  the  bottom 
this  affair  of  the  first  elopement.  Let  us  know  the  full 
history  of  '  the  officer,*  with  his  present  circumstances, 
and  his  whereabouts  at  the  precise  period  of  the  mur 
der.  Let  us  carefully  compare  with  each  other  the 

74 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

various  communications  sent  to  the  evening  paper,  in 
which  the  object  was  to  inculpate  a  gang.  This  done, 
let  us  compare  these  communications,  both  as  regards 
style  and  MS.,  with  those  sent  to  the  morning  paper, 
at  a  previous  period,  and  insisting  so  vehemently  upon 
the  guilt  of  Mennais.  And,  all  this  done,  let  us  again 
compare  these  various  communications  with  the 
known  MSS.  of  the  officer.  Let  us  endeavor  to  ascer 
tain,  by  repeated  questionings  of  Madame  Deluc  and 
her  boys,  as  well  as  of  the  omnibus-driver,  Valence, 
something  more  of  the  personal  appearance  and  bearing 
of  the  '  man  of  dark  complexion.'  Queries,  skilfully 
directed,  will  not  fail  to  elicit,  from  some  of  these 
parties,  information  on  this  particular  point  (or  upon 
others) — information  which  the  parties  themselves 
may  not  even  be  aware  of  possessing.  And  let  us  now 
trace  the  boat  picked  up  by  the  bargeman  on  the 
morning  of  Monday,  the  twenty-third  of  June,  and 
which  was  removed  from  the  barge  office,  without  the 
cognizance  of  the  officer  in  attendance,  and  without 
the  rudder,  at  some  period  prior  to  the  discovery  of 
the  corpse.  With  a  proper  caution  and  perseverance 
we  shall  infallibly  trace  this  boat;  for  not  only  can 
the  bargeman  who  picked  it  up  identify  it,  but  the 
rudder  is  at  hand.  The  rudder  of  a  sailboat  would  not 
have  been  abandoned,  without  inquiry,  by  one  alto 
gether  at  ease  in  heart.  And  here  let  me  pause  to 
insinuate  a  question.  There  was  no  advertisement  of 

75 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

the  picking  up  of  this  boat.  It  was  silently  taken  to 
the  barge  office,  and  as  silently  removed.  But  its 
owner  or  employer — how  happened  he,  at  so  early  a 
period  as  Tuesday  morning,  to  be  informed,  without 
the  agency  of  advertisement,  of  the  locality  of  the 
boat  taken  up  on  Monday,  unless  we  imagine  some 
connection  with  the  navy,  some  personal  permanent 
connection  leading  to  cognizance  of  its  minute  interests, 
its  petty  local  news  ? 

"  In  speaking  of  the  lonely  assassin  dragging  his 
burden  to  the  shore,  I  have  already  suggested  the 
probability  of  his  availing  himself  of  a  boat.  Now  we 
are  to  understand  that  Marie  Roget  was  precipitated 
from  a  boat.  This  would  naturally  have  been  the 
case.  The  corpse  could  not  have  been  trusted  to  the 
shallow  waters  of  the  shore.  The  peculiar  marks  on 
the  back  and  shoulders  of  the  victim  tell  of  the  bottom 
ribs  of  a  boat.  That  the  body  was  found  without 
weight  is  also  corroborative  of  the  idea.  If  thrown 
from  the  shore  a  weight  would  have  been  attached. 
We  can  only  account  for  its  absence  by  supposing  the 
murderer  to  have  neglected  the  precaution  of  supplying 
himself  with  it  before  pushing  off.  In  the  act  of  con 
signing  the  corpse  to  the  water,  he  would  unquestion 
ably  have  noticed  his  oversight;  but  then  no  remedy 
would  have  been  at  hand.  Any  risk  would  have  been 
preferred  to  a  return  to  that  accursed  shore.  Having 
rid  himself  of  his  ghastly  charge,  the  murderer  would 

76 


THE  MYSTERY  OF  MARIE  ROQET 

"  There,  at  some  obscure  wharf,  he  wouid  have  leaped  on 
land." 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

have  hastened  to  the  city.  There,  at  some  obscure 
wharf,  he  would  have  leaped  on  land.  But  the  boat, 
would  he  have  secured  it  ?  He  would  have  been  in 
too  great  haste  for  such  things  as  securing  a  boat. 
Moreover,  in  fastening  it  to  the  wharf,  he  would  have 
felt  as  if  securing  evidence  against  himself.  His 
natural  thought  would  have  been  to  cast  from  him,  as 
far  as  possible,  all  that  had  held  connection  with  his 
crime.  He  would  not  only  have  fled  from  the  wharf, 
but  he  would  not  have  permitted  the  boat  to  remain. 
Assuredly  he  would  have  cast  it  adrift.  Let  us  pursue 
our  fancies.  In  the  morning,  the  wretch  is  stricken 
with  unutterable  horror  at  finding  that  the  boat  has 
been  picked  up  and  detained  at  a  locality  which  he  is 
in  the  daily  habit  of  frequenting, — at  a  locality,  per 
haps,  which  his  duty  compels  him  to  frequent.  The 
next  night,  without  daring  to  ask  for  the  rudder,  he 
removes  it.  Now  where  is  that  rudderless  boat  ?  Let 
it  be  one  of  our  first  purposes  to  discover.  With  the 
first  glimpse  we  obtain  of  it,  the  dawn  of  our  success 
shall  begin.  This  boat  shall  guide  us,  with  a  rapidity 
which  will  surprise  even  ourselves,  to  him  who  em 
ployed  it  in  the  midnight  of  the  fatal  Sabbath.  Cor- 
roboration  will  rise  upon  corroboration,  and  the 
murderer  will  be  traced." 

[For  reasons  which  we  shall  not  specify,  but  which  to 
many  readers  will  appear  obvious,  we  have  taken  the 
liberty  of  here  omitting,  from  the  MSS.  placed  in  our 

rr 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

hands,  such  portion  as  details  the  following  up  of 
the  apparently  slight  clew  obtained  by  Dupin.  We 
feel  it  advisable  only  to  state,  in  brief,  that  the  result 
desired  was  brought  to  pass ;  and  that  the  Prefect  ful 
filled  punctually,  although  with  reluctance,  the  terms 
of  his  compact  with  the  Chevalier.  Mr.  Poe's  article 
concludes  with  the  following  words. — EDS. l  ] 

It  will  be  understood  that  I  speak  of  coincidences  and 
no  more.  What  I  have  said  above  upon  this  topic 
must  suffice.  In  my  own  heart  there  dwells  no  faith 
in  preternature.  That  Nature  and  its  God  are  two, 
no  man  who  thinks  will  deny.  That  the  latter,  creat 
ing  the  former,  can  at  will  control  or  modify  it,  is 
also  unquestionable.  I  say  "  at  will  " ;  for  the  ques 
tion  is  of  will,  and  not,  as  the  insanity  of  logic  has 
assumed,  of  power.  It  is  not  that  the  Deity  cannot 
modify  his  laws,  but  that  we  insult  him  in  imagining 
a  possible  necessity  for  modification.  In  their  origin 
these  laws  were  fashioned  to  embrace  all  contingencies 
which  could  lie  in  the  future.  With  God  all  is  now. 

I  repeat,  then,  that  I  speak  of  these  things  only  as 
of  coincidences.  And  further :  in  what  I  relate  it  will 
be  seen  that  between  the  fate  of  the  unhappy  Mary 
Cecilia  Rogers,  so  far  as  that  fate  is  known,  and  the  fate 
of  one  Marie  Roget  up  to  a  certain  epoch  in  her  history, 
there  has  existed  a  parallel,  in  the  contemplation  of 
whose  wonderful  exactitude  the  reason  becomes  em- 


1  Of  the  magazine  in  which  the  article  was  originally  published. 
78 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

barrassed.  I  say  all  this  will  be  seen.  But  let  it  not 
for  a  moment  be  supposed  that,  in  proceeding  with 
the  sad  narrative  of  Marie  from  the  epoch  just  men 
tioned,  and  in  tracing  to  its  denouement  the  mystery 
which  enshrouded  her,  it  is  my  covert  design  to  hint 
at  an  extension  of  the  parallel,  or  even  to  suggest  that 
the  measures  adopted  in  Paris  for  the  discovery  of  the 
assassin  of  a  grisette,  or  measures  founded  in  any 
similar  ratiocination,  would  produce  any  similar  result. 
For,  in  respect  to  the  latter  branch  of  the  supposi 
tion  it  should  be  considered  that  the  most  trifling  varia 
tion  in  the  facts  of  the  two  cases  might  give  rise  to 
the  most  important  miscalculations  by  diverting 
thoroughly  the  two  courses  of  events;  very  much  as, 
in  arithmetic,  an  error  which,  in  its  own  individuality, 
may  be  inappreciable,  produces,  at  length,  by  dint  of 
multiplication  at  all  points  of  the  process,  a  result 
enormously  at  variance  with  truth.  And,  in  regard 
to  the  former  branch,  we  must  not  fail  to  hold  in 
view  that  the  very  calculus  of  probabilities  to  which 
I  have  referred  forbids  all  idea  of  the  extension  of  the 
parallel,  forbids  it  with  a  positiveness  strong  and  de 
cided  just  in  proportion  as  this  parallel  has  already 
been  long-drawn  and  exact.  This  is  one  of  those 
anomalous  propositions  which,  seemingly  appealing  to 
thought  altogether  apart  from  the  mathematical,  is 
yet  one  which  only  the  mathematician  can  fully  en 
tertain.  Nothing,  for  example,  is  more  difficult  than 

79 


The  Mystery  of  Marie  Roget 

to  convince  the  merely  general  reader  that  the  fact  of 
sixes  having  been  thrown  twice  in  succession  by  a 
player  of  dice  is  sufficient  cause  for  betting  the  largest 
odds  that  sixes  will  not  be  thrown  in  the  third  attempt. 
A  suggestion  to  this  effect  is  usually  rejected  by  the 
intellect  at  once.  It  does  not  appear  that  the  two 
throws  which  have  been  completed,  and  which  lie 
now  absolutely  in  the  past,  can  have  influence  upon 
the  throw  which  exists  only  in  the  'future.  The 
chance  for  throwing  sixes  seems  to  be  precisely  as  it 
was  at  any  ordinary  time,  that  is  to  say,  subject  only 
to  the  influence  of  the  various  other  throws  which 
may  be  made  by  the  dice.  And  this  is  a  reflection 
which  appears  so  exceedingly  obvious  that  attempts  to 
controvert  it  are  received  more  frequently  with  a 
derisive  smile  than  with  anything  like  respectful  at 
tention.  The  error  here  involved,  a  gross  error  red 
olent  of  mischief,  I  cannot  pretend  to  expose  within 
the  limits  assigned  me  at  present ;  and  with  the  philo 
sophical  it  needs  no  exposure.  It  may  be  sufficient 
here  to  say  that  it  forms  one  of  an  infinite  series  of 
mistakes  which  arises  in  the  path  of  Reason  through 
her  propensity  for  seeking  truth  in  detail. 


80 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 

Impia  tortorum  longas  hie  turba  furores 
Sanguinis  innocui,  non  satiata,  aluit. 
Sospite  nunc  patria,  fracto  nunc  funeris  antro, 
Mors  ubi  dira  fuit  vita  salusque  patent. 

[Quatrain  composed  for  the  gates  of  a  market  to  be  erected  upon 
the  site  of  the  Jacobin  Club  House  at  Paris,] 


WAS  sick,  sick  unto  death  with  that  long 
agony;  and  when  they  at  length  unbound 
me,  and  I  was  permitted  to  sit,  I  felt  that 
my  senses  were  leaving  me.  The  sentence,  the  dread 
sentence  of  death,  was  the  last  of  distinct  accentuation 
which  reached  my  ears.  After  that,  the  sound  of  the 
inquisitorial  voices  seemed  merged  in  one  dreamy,  i**  , 

determinate  hum.     It  conveyed  to  my  soul  the       . 

:  a  long 

of  revolution,  perhaps  from  its  association  in 

e  marvel 

with  the  burr  of  a  mill-wheel.     This  only  for  t          ,  . 

J         .vooned  is 


period,  for  presently  I  heard  no  more.     Yet 


... 
.y  familiar 


while,  I  saw;  but  with  how  terrible  an  exagg      fl      . 
I  saw  the  lis  of  the  black-robed    udes.     ' 


peared  to  me  white,  whiter  than  the  sheet  UT 


.ay  not  view; 

' 


VOL.V.-6. 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


I  trace  these  words,  and  thin  even  to  grotesqueness  ; 
thin  with  the  intensity  of  their  expression  of  firmness, 
of  immovable  resolution,  of  stern  contempt  of  human 
torture.  I  saw  that  the  decrees  of  what  to  me  was 
fate  were  still  issuing  from  those  lips.  I  saw  them 
writhe  with  a  deadly  locution.  I  saw  them  fashion 
the  syllables  of  my  name;  and  I  shuddered  because 
no  sound  succeeded.  I  saw,  too,  for  a  few  moments 
of  delirious  horror,  the  soft  and  nearly  imperceptible 
waving  of  the  sable  draperies  which  enwrapped  the 
walls  of  the  apartment.  And  then  my  vision  fell  upon 
the  seven  tall  candles  upon  the  table.  At  first  they 
wore  the  aspect  of  charity,  and  seemed  white,  slender 
an^ds  who  would  save  me  ;  but  then,  all  at  once,  there 
^  came  a  most  deadly  nausea  over  my  spirit,  and  I  felt 
t  every  fibre  in  my  frame  thrill  as  if  I  had  touched  the 
wire  of  a  galvanic  battery,  while  the  angel  forms  be- 
,,  came  meaningless  spectres,  with  heads  of  flame,  and 
I  saw  that  from  them  there  would  be  no  help.  And 


,  there  stole  into  my  fancy,  like  a  rich  musical 

.         *   the  thought  of  what  sweet  rest  there  must  be  in 

Tave.     The  thought  came  gently  and  stealthily, 
oer  prope 

seemed  long  before  it  attained  full  appreciation  ; 

rt  as  my  spirit  came  at  length  properly  to  feel 

?rtain  it,  the  figures  of  the  judges  vanished,  as 

illy,  from  before  me;   the  tall  candles  sank 

'ngness;   their  flames  went  out  utterly;   the 

of  darkness  supervened;   all  sensations  ap- 

82 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


peared  swallowed  up  in  a  mad  rushing  descent  as  of 
the  soul  into  Hades.  Then  silence,  and  stillness,  and 
night  were  the  universe. 

I  had  swooned ;  but  still  will  not  say  that  all  of  con 
sciousness  was  lost.  What  of  it  there  remained  I  will 
not  attempt  to  define,  or  even  to  describe ;  yet  all  was 
not  lost.  In  the  deepest  slumber,  no!  In  delirium, 
no!  In  a  swoon,  no!  In  death,  no!  even  in  the 
grave  all  is  not  lost.  Else  there  is  no  immortality  for 
man.  Arousing  from  the  most  profound  of  slumbers, 
we  break  the  gossamer  web  of  some  dream.  Yet  in  a 
second  afterward  (so  frail  may  that  web  have  been), 
we  remember  not  that  we  have  dreamed.  In  the 
return  to  life  from  the  swoon  there  are  two  stages: 
first,  that  of  the  sense  of  mental  or  spiritual,  secondly, 
that  of  the  sense  of  physical,  existence.  It  seems 
probable  that  if,  upon  reaching  the  second  stage,  we 
could  recall  the  impressions  of  the  first,  we  should 
find  these  impressions  eloquent  in  memories  of  the 
gulf  beyond.  And  that  gulf  is,  what  ?  How  at  least 
shall  we  distinguish  its  shadows  from  those  of  the 
tomb  ?  But  if  the  impressions  of  what  I  have  termed 
the  first  stage  are  not  at  will  recalled  yet,  after  a  long 
interval,  do  they  not  come  unbidden,  while  we  marvel 
whence  they  come  ?  He  who  has  never  swooned  is 
not  he  who  finds  strange  palaces  and  wildly  familiar 
faces  in  coals  that  glow ;  is  not  he  who  beholds  floating 
in  mid-air  the  sad  visions  that  the  many  may  not  view ; 

83 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 

is  not  he  who  ponders  over  the  perfume  of  some  nove 
flower;  is  not  he  whose  brain  grows  bewildered  wit! 
the  meaning  of  some  musical  cadence  which  has  nevei 
before  arrested  his  attention. 

Amid  frequent  and  thoughtful  endeavors  to  remem 
ber,  amid  earnest  struggles  to  regather  some  token  o: 
the  state  of  seeming  nothingness  into  which  my  sou 
had  lapsed,  there  have  been  moments  when  I  have 
dreamed  of  success;  there  have  been  brief,  very  brie: 
periods  when  I  have  conjured  up  remembrances  whicl 
the  lucid  reason  of  a  later  epoch  assures  me  coulc 
have  had  reference  only  to  that  condition  of  seeming 
unconsciousness.  These  shadows  of  memory  tell,  in 
distinctly,  of  tall  figures  that  lifted  and  bore  me  in 
silence  down,  down,  still  down,  till  a  hideous  dizziness 
oppressed  me  at  the  mere  idea  of  the  interminableness 
of  the  descent.  They  tell  also  of  a  vague  horror  at 
my  heart,  on  account  of  that  heart's  unnatural  still 
ness.  Then  comes  a  sense  of  sudden  motionlessness 
throughout  all  things;  as  if  those  who  bore  me  (a 
ghastly  train!)  had  outrun,  in  their  descent,  the  limits 
of  the  limitless,  and  paused  from  the  wearisomeness 
of  their  toil.  After  this  I  call  to  mind  flatness  and 
dampness;  and  then  all  is  madness — the  madness  of 
a  memory  which  busies  itself  among  forbidden  things. 

Very  suddenly  there  came  back  to  my  soul  motion 
and  sound,  the  tumultuous  motion  of  the  heart,  and, 
in  my  ears,  the  sound  of  its  beating.  Then  a  pause 

84 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


in  which  all  is  blank.  Then  again  sound,  and  motion, 
and  touch,  a  tingling  sensation  pervading  my  frame. 
Then  the  mere  consciousness  of  existence,  without 
thought,  a  condition  which  lasted  long.  Then,  very 
suddenly,  thought,  and  shuddering  terror,  and  earnest 
endeavor  to  comprehend  my  true  state.  Then  a  strong 
desire  to  lapse  into  insensibility.  Then  a  rushing  re 
vival  of  soul  and  a  successful  effort  to  move.  And 
now  a  full  memory  of  the  trial,  of  the  judges,  of  the 
sable  draperies,  of  the  sentence,  of  the  sickness,  of 
the  swoon.  Then  entire  forgetfulness  of  all  that  fol 
lowed;  of  all  that  a  later  day  and  much  earnestness 
of  endeavor  have  enabled  me  vaguely  to  recall. 

So  far,  I  had  not  opened  my  eyes.  I  felt  that  I  lay 
upon  my  back,  unbound.  I  reached  out  my  hand 
and  it  fell  heavily  upon  something  damp  and  hard. 
There  I  suffered  it  to  remain  for  many  minutes,  while 
I  strove  to  imagine  where  and  what  I  could  be.  I 
longed,  yet  dared  not,  to  employ  my  vision.  I  dreaded 
the  first  glance  at  objects  around  me.  It  was  not  that 
I  feared  to  look  upon  things  horrible,  but  that  I  grew 
aghast  lest  there  should  be  nothing  to  see.  At  length, 
^ith  a  wild  desperation  at  heart,  I  quickly  unclosed 
my  eyes.  My  worst  thoughts,  then,  were  confirmed. 
The  blackness  of  eternal  night  encompassed  me.  I 
struggled  for  breath.  The  intensity  of  the  darkness 
seemed  to  oppress  and  stifle  me.  The  atmosphere  was 
intolerably  close.  I  still  lay  quietly,  and  made  effort 

35 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


to  exercise  my  reason.     I  brought  to  mind  the  inquisi 
torial  proceedings,  and  attempted  from  that  point  to 
deduce  my  real  condition.     The  sentence  had  passed; 
and  it  appeared  to  me  that  a  very  long  interval  of  time 
had  since  elapsed.     Yet  not  for  a  moment  did  I  suppose 
myself  actually  dead.     Such  a  supposition,  notwith 
standing  what  we  read  in  fiction,  is  altogether  incon 
sistent  with  real  existence;    but  where  and  in  what 
state  was  I  ?     The  condemned  to  death,  I  knew,  per 
ished  usually  at  the  autos-da-fe,  and  one  of  these  had 
been  held  on  the  very  night  of  the  day  of  my  trial. 
Had  I  been  remanded  to  my  dungeon,  to  await  the 
next  sacrifice,  which  would  not  take  place  for  many 
months  ?     This  I  at  once  saw  could  not  be.     Victims 
had  been  in  immediate  demand.     Moreover,  my  dun 
geon,  as  well  as  all  the  condemned  cells  at  Toledo, 
had  stone  floors,  and  light  was  not  altogether  excluded, 
A  fearful  idea  now  suddenly  drove  the  blood  in  tor 
rents  upon  my  heart,  and  for  a  brief  period  I  once 
more  relapsed  into  insensibility.     Upon  recovering,  ! 
at  once  started  to  my  feet,  trembling  convulsively  ii 
every   fibre.     I   thrust   my   arms   wildly   above    an'; 
around   me   in   all   directions.     I   felt   nothing;    ye 
dreaded  to  move  a  step,  lest  I  should  be  impeded  b 
the  walls  of  a  tomb.     Perspiration  burst  from  ever 
pore,  and  stood  in  cold  big  beads  upon  my  foreheac 
The  agony  of  suspense  grew  at  length  intolerable,  an 
I  cautiously  moved  forward,  with  my  arms  extendet 

86 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


and  my  eyes  straining  from  their  sockets  in  the  hope 
of  catching  some  faint  ray  of  light.  I  proceeded  for 
many  paces ;  but  still  all  was  blackness  and  vacancy. 
I  breathed  more  freely.  It  seemed  evident  that  mine 
was  not,  at  least,  the  most  hideous  of  fates. 

And  now,  as  I  still  continued  to  step  cautiously  on 
ward,  there  came  thronging  upon  my  recollection  a 
:housand  vague  rumors  of  the  horrors  of  Toledo.  Of 
the  dungeons  there  had  been  strange  things  narrated, 
fables  I  had  always  deemed  them,  but  yet  strange, 
and  too  ghastly  to  repeat,  save  in  a  whisper.  Was  I 
left  to  perish  of  starvation  in  this  subterranean  world 
of  darkness ;  or  what  fate,  perhaps  even  more  fearful, 
awaited  me  ?  That  the  result  would  be  death,  and  a 
death  of  more  than  customary  bitterness,  I  knew  too 
well  the  character  of  my  judges  to  doubt.  The  mode 
and  the  hour  were  all  that  occupied  or  distracted  me. 

My  outstretched  hands  at  length  encountered  some 
solid  obstruction.  It  was  a  wall,  seemingly  of  stone 
masonry,  very  smooth,  slimy,  and  cold.  I  followed  it 
up  stepping  with  all  the  careful  distrust  with  which 
certain  antique  narratives  had  inspired  me.  This  pro 
cess,  however,  afforded  me  no  means  of  ascertaining 
the  dimensions  of  my  dungeon,  as  I  might  make  its 
circuit  and  return  to  the  point  whence  I  set  out  with 
out  being  aware  of  the  fact,  so  perfectly  uniform 
seemed  the  wall.  I  therefore  sought  the  knife  which 
had  been  in  my  pocket  when  led  into  the  inquisi- 

87 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 

torial  chamber;  but  it  was  gone;    my  clothes  had 
been  exchanged  for  a  wrapper  of  coarse  serge.     I  had 
thought  of  forcing  the  blade  in  some  minute  crevice 
of  the  masonry,  so  as  to  identify  my  point  of  departure. 
The  difficulty,  nevertheless,  was  but  trivial,  although, 
In  the  disorder  of  my  fancy,  it  seemed  at  first  insupera 
ble.     I  tore  a  part  of  the  hem  from  the  robe  and 
placed  the  fragment  at  full  length,  and  at  right  angles 
to  the  wall.     In  groping  my  way  around  the  prison,  I 
could  not  fail  to  encounter  this  rag  upon  completing 
the  circuit.     So,  at  least,  I  thought;    but  I  had  not 
counted  upon  the  extent  of  the  dungeon,  or  upon  my 
own  weakness.     The  ground  was  moist  and  slippery. 
I  staggered  onward  for  some  time,  when  I  stumbled 
and  fell.     My  excessive  fatigue  induced  me  to  remain 
prostrate ;  and  sleep  soon  overtook  me  as  I  lay. 

Upon  awaking,  and  stretching  forth  an  arm,  I  found 
beside  me  a  loaf  and  a  pitcher  with  water.  I  was  too 
much  exhausted  to  reflect  upon  this  circumstance,  but 
ate  and  drank  with  avidity.  Shortly  afterward,  I  re 
sumed  my  tour  around  the  prison,  and  with  much 
toil  came  at  last  upon  the  fragment  of  the  serge.  Uf 
to  the  period  when  I  fell,  I  had  counted  fifty-two  paces 
and,  upon  resuming  my  walk,  I  had  counted  forty- 
eight  more,  when  I  arrived  at  the  rag.  There  were  ii 
all,  then,  a  hundred  paces;  and,  admitting  two  pace 
to  the  yard,  I  presumed  the  dungeon  to  be  fifty  yard 
in  circuit.  I  had  met,  however,  with  many  angle 

88 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


in  the  wall,  and  thus  I  could  form  no  guess  at  the 
shape  of  the  vault,  for  vault  I  could  not  help  supposing 
t  to  be. 

I  had  little  object,  certainly  no  hope,  in  these  re 
searches  ;  but  a  vague  curiosity  prompted  me  to  con- 
inue  them.  Quitting  the  wall,  I  resolved  to  cross  the 
area  of  the  enclosure.  At  first  I  proceeded  with  ex- 
reme  caution,  for  the  floor,  although  seemingly  of 
solid  material,  was  treacherous  with  slime.  At  length, 
however,  I  took  courage,  and  did  not  hesitate  to  step 
firmly,  endeavoring  to  cross  in  as  direct  a  line  as 
possible.  I  had  advanced  some  ten  or  twelve  paces 
n  this  manner,  when  the  remnant  of  the  torn  hem  of 
my  robe  became  entangled  between  my  legs.  I  stepped 
on  it,  and  fell  violently  on  my  face. 

In  the  confusion  attending  my  fall,  I  did  not  im 
mediately  apprehend  a  somewhat  startling  circum 
stance,  which  yet,  in  a  few  seconds  afterward,  and 
while  I  still  lay  prostrate,  arrested  my  attention.  It 
was  this :  my  chin  rested  upon  the  floor  of  the  prison, 
but  my  lips,  and  the  upper  portion  of  my  head,  although 
seemingly  at  a  less  elevation  than  the  chin,  touched 
aothing.  At  the  same  time,  my  forehead  seemed  bathed 
in  a  clammy  vapor,  and  the  peculiar  smell  of  decayed 
ungus  arose  to  my  nostrils.  I  put  forward  my  arm, 
and  shuddered  to  find  that  I  had  fallen  at  the  very 
brink  of  a  circular  pit,  whose  extent,  of  course,  I  had 
no  means  of  ascertaining  at  the  moment.  Groping 

80 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


about  the  masonry  just  below  the  margin,  I  succeeded 
in  dislodging  a  small  fragment,  and  let  it  fall  into  the 
abyss.  For  many  seconds  I  hearkened  to  its  rever 
berations  as  it  dashed  against  the  sides  of  the  chasm 
in  its  descent;  at  length,  there  was  a  sullen  plunge 
into  water,  succeeded  by  loud  echoes.  At  the  same 
moment,  there  came  a  sound  resembling  the  quiet 
opening  and  as  rapid  closing  of  a  door  overhead,  while 
a  faint  gleam  of  light  flashed  suddenly  through  the 
gloom,  and  as  suddenly  faded  away. 

I  saw  clearly  the  doom  which  had  been  prepared  foi 
me,  and  congratulated  myself  upon  the  timely  accidenl 
by  which  I  had  escaped.  Another  step  before  my  fall, 
and  the  world  had  seen  me  no  more.  And  the  death 
just  avoided  was  of  that  very  character  which  I  had 
regarded  as  fabulous  and  frivolous  in  the  tales  respect 
ing  the  Inquisition.  To  the  victims  of  its  tyranny, 
there  was  the  choice  of  death  with  its  direst  physical 
agonies,  or  death  with  its  most  hideous  moral  horrors, 
I  had  been  reserved  for  the  latter.  By  long  suffering 
my  nerves  had  been  unstrung,  until  I  trembled  at  the 
sound  of  my  own  voice,  and  had  become  in  ever) 
respect  a  fitting  subject  for  the  species  of  torture 
which  awaited  me. 

Shaking  in  every  limb,  I  groped  my  way  back  to  the 
wall,  resolving  there  to  perish  rather  than  risk  the 
terrors  of  the  wells,  of  which  my  imagination  no\i 
pictured  many  in  various  positions  about  the  dungeon 

90 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


!n  other  conditions  of  mind,  I  might  have  had  courage 
o  end  my  misery  at  once,  by  a  plunge  into  one  of 
hese  abysses;  but  now  I  was  the  veriest  of  cowards. 
Neither  could  I  forget  what  I  had  read  of  these  pits, 
hat  the  sudden  extinction  of  life  formed  no  part  of 
heir  most  horrible  plan. 

Agitation  of  spirit  kept  me  awake  for  many  long 
lours,  but  at  length  I  again  slumbered.  Upon  arous- 
ng,  I  found  by  my  side,  as  before,  a  loaf  and  a  pitcher 
rf  water.  A  burning  thirst  consumed  me,  and  I 
emptied  the  vessel  at  a  draught.  It  must  have  been 
drugged,  for  scarcely  had  I  drunk,  before  I  became 
irresistibly  drowsy.  A  deep  sleep  fell  upon  me,  a  sleep 
like  that  of  death.  How  long  it  lasted,  of  course  I 
know  not ;  but  when,  once  again,  I  unclosed  my  eyes, 
the  objects  around  me  were  visible.  By  a  wild,  sul 
phurous  lustre,  the  origin  of  which  I  could  not  at  first 
determine,  I  was  enabled  to  see  the  extent  and  aspect 
of  the  prison. 

In  its  size  I  had  been  greatly  mistaken.  The  whole 
circuit  of  its  walls  did  not  exceed  twenty-five  yards. 
For  some  minutes  this  fact  occasioned  me  a  world  of 
vain  trouble ;  vain  indeed,  for  what  could  be  of  less  im 
portance,  under  the  terrible  circumstances  which  en 
vironed  me,  than  the  mere  dimensions  of  my  dungeon  ? 
But  my  soul  took  a  wild  interest  in  trifles,  and  I 
busied  myself  in  endeavors  to  account  for  the  error  I 
had  committed  in  my  measurement.  The  truth  at 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


length  flashed  upon  me.  In  my  first  attempt  at  ex 
ploration  I  had  counted  fifty-two  paces,  up  to  thq 
period  when  I  fell:  I  must  then  have  been  within  a 
pace  or  two  of  the  fragment  of  serge;  in  fact,  I  had 
nearly  performed  the  circuit  of  the  vault.  I  then  slept, 
and,  upon  awaking,  I  must  have  returned  upon  my 
steps,  thus  supposing  the  circuit  nearly  double  what 
it  actually  was.  My  confusion  of  mind  prevented  me 
from  observing  that  I  began  my  tour  with  the  wall  to 
the  left,  and  ended  it  with  the  wall  to  the  right. 

I  had  been  deceived,  too,  in  respect  to  the  shape  of 
the  enclosure.  In  feeling  my  way  I  had  found  many 
angles,  and  thus  deduced  an  idea  of  great  irregularity; 
so  potent  is  the  effect  of  total  darkness  upon  one 
arousing  from  lethargy  or  sleep!  The  angles  were 
simply  those  of  a  few  slight  depressions,  or  niches,  at 
odd  intervals.  The  general  shape  of  the  prison  was 
square.  What  I  had  taken  for  masonry  seemed  now 
to  be  iron,  or  some  other  metal,  in  huge  plates,  whose 
sutures  or  joints  occasioned  the  depression.  The 
entire  surface  of  this  metallic  enclosure  was  rudely 
daubed  in  all  the  hideous  and  repulsive  devices  to 
to  which  the  charnel  superstition  of  the  monks  has 
given  rise.  The  figures  of  fiends  in  aspects  of  menace, 
with  skeleton  forms,  and  other  more  really  fearful 
images,  overspread  and  disfigured  the  walls.  I  ob 
served  that  the  outlines  of  these  monstrosities  were 
sufficiently  distinct,  but  that  the  colors  seemed  faded 

92 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


and  blurred,  as  if  from  the  effects  of  a  damp  atmos 
phere.  I  now  noticed  the  floor,  too,  which  was  of 
stone.  In  the  centre  yawned  the  circular  pit  from 
whose  jaws  I  had  escaped;  but  it  was  the  only  one  in 
the  dungeon. 

All  this  I  saw  indistinctly  and  by  much  effort,  for 
my  personal  condition  had  been  greatly  changed  during 
slumber.  I  now  lay  upon  my  back,  and  at  full  length, 
on  a  species  of  low  framework  of  wood.  To  this  I 
was  securely  bound  by  a  long  strap  resembling  a  sur 
cingle.  It  passed  in  many  convolutions  about  my 
limbs  and  body,  leaving  at  liberty  only  my  head,  and 
my  left  arm  to  such  extent  that  I  could,  by  dint  of 
much  exertion,  supply  myself  with  food  from  an 
earthen  dish  which  lay  by  my  side  on  the  floor.  I  saw, 
to  my  horror,  that  the  pitcher  had  been  removed.  I 
say  to  my  horror,  for  I  was  consumed  with  intolerable 
thirst,  This  thirst  it  appeared  to  be  the  design  of 
my  persecutors  to  stimulate,  for  the  food  in  the  dish 
was  meat  pungently  seasoned. 

Looking  upward,  I  surveyed  the  ceiling  of  my  prison. 
It  was  some  thirty  or  forty  feet  overhead,  and  con 
structed  much  as  the  side  walls.  In  one  of  its  panels 
a  very  singular  figure  riveted  my  whole  attention.  It 
was  the  painted  figure  of  Time  as  he  is  commonly 
represented,  save  that,  in  lieu  of  a  scythe,  he  held 
what,  at  a  casual  glance,  I  supposed  to  be  the  pictured 
image  of  a  huge  pendulum,  such  as  we  see  on  antique 

93 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


clocks.  There  was  something,  however,  in  the  ap 
pearance  of  this  machine  which  caused  me  to  regard 
it  more  attentively.  While  I  gazed  directly  upward 
at  it  (for  its  position  was  immediately  over  my  own), 
I  fancied  that  I  saw  it  in  motion.  In  an  instant 
afterward  the  fancy  was  confirmed.  Its  sweep  was 
briftf,  and  of  course  slow.  I  watched  it  for  some 
minutes,  somewhat  in  fear,  but  more  in  wonder. 
Wearied  at  length  with  observing  its  dull  movement, 
I  turned  my  eyes  upon  the  other  objects  in  the  cell. 

A  slight  noise  attracted  my  notice,  and,  looking  to 
the  floor,  I  saw  several  enormous  rats  traversing  it. 
They  had  issued  from  the  well  which  lay  just  within 
view  to  my  right.  Even  then,  while  I  gazed,  they 
came  up  in  troops,  hurriedly,  with  ravenous  eyes,  al 
lured  by  the  scent  of  the  meat.  From  this  it  required 
much  effort  and  attention  to  scare  them  away. 

It  might  have  been  half  an  hour,  perhaps  even  an 
hour  (for  I  could  take  but  imperfect  note  of  time), 
before  I  again  cast  my  eyes  upward.  What  I  then  saw 
confounded  and  amazed  me.  The  sweep  of  the  pen 
dulum  had  increased  in  extent  by  nearly  a  yard.  As 
a  natural  consequence  its  velocity  was  also  much 
greater.  But  what  mainly  disturbed  me  was  the  idea 
that  it  had  perceptibly  descended.  I  now  observed, 
with  what  horror  it  is  needless  to  say,  that  its  nether 
extremity  was  formed  of  a  crescent  of  glittering  steel, 
about  a  foot  in  length  from  horn  to  horn;  the  horns 

<H 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


The  vibration  of  the  pendulum  was  at  right  angles 
o  my  length.  I  saw  that  the  crescent  was  designed 
o  cross  the  region  of  the  heart.  It  would  fray  the 
erge  of  my  robe,  it  would  return  and  repeat  its  opera- 
ions,  again,  and  again.  Notwithstanding  its  terrifi- 
;ally  wide  sweep  (some  thirty  feet  or  more),  and  the 
aissing  vigor  of  its  descent,  sufficient  to  sunder  these 
srery  walls  of  iron,  still  the  fraying  of  my  robe  would 
be  all  that,  for  several  minutes,  it  would  accomplish. 
And  at  this  thought  I  paused.  I  dared  not  go  further 
than  this  reflection.  I  dwelt  upon  it  with  a  pertinacity 
of  attention,  as  if,  in  so  dwelling,  I  could  arrest  here 
the  descent  of  the  steel.  I  forced  myself  to  ponder 
upon  the  sound  of  the  crescent  as  it  should  pass  across 
the  garment,  upon  the  peculiar  thrilling  sensation 
which  the  friction  of  cloth  produces  on  the  nerves.  I 
pondered  upon  all  this  frivolity  until  my  teeth  were  on 
edge. 

Down,  steadily  down  it  crept.  I  took  a  frenzied 
pleasure  in  contrasting  its  downward  with  its  lateral 
velocity.  To  the  right,  to  the  left,  far  and  wide,  with 
the  shriek  of  a  damned  spirit!  to  my  heart,  with  the 
stealthy  pace  of  the  tiger!  I  alternately  laughed  and 
howled,  as  the  one  or  the  other  idea  grew  predominant. 

Down,  certainly,  relentlessly  down!  It  .vibrated 
within  three  inches  of  my  bosom!  I  struggled  vio 
lently,  furiously,  to  free  my  left  arm.  This  was  free 
only  from  the  elbow  to  the  hand.  I  could  reach  the 

VOL.  v.— 7 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


latter  from  the  platter  beside  me  to  my  mouth,  with 
great  effort,  but  no  farther.  Could  I  have  broken  the 
fastenings  above  the  elbow,  I  would  have  seized  and 
attempted  to  arrest  the  pendulum.  I  might  as  well 
have  attempted  to  arrest  an  avalanche ! 

Down,  still  unceasingly,  still  inevitably  down!  I 
gasped  and  struggled  at  each  vibration.  I  shrunk 
convulsively  at  its  every  sweep.  My  eyes  followed  its 
outward  or  upward  whirls  with  the  eagerness  of  the 
most  unmeaning  despair ;  they  closed  themselves  spas 
modically  at  the  descent,  although  death  would  have 
been  a  relief,  oh,  how  unspeakable!  Still  I  quivered 
in  every  nerve  to  think  how  slight  a  sinking  of  the 
machinery  would  precipitate  that  keen,  glistening  axe 
upon  my  bosom.  It  was  hope  that  prompted  the  nerve 
to  quiver,  the  frame  to  shrink.  It  was  hope,  the  hope 
that  triumphs  on  the  rack,  that  whispers  to  the  death- 
condemned  even  in  the  dungeons  of  the  Inquisition. 

I  saw  that  some  ten  or  twelve  vibrations  would  bring 
the  steel  in  actual  contact  with  my  robe,  and  with  this 
observation  there  suddenly  came  over  my  spirit  all  the 
keen,  collected  calmness  of  despair.  For  the  first 
time  during  many  hours,  or  perhaps  days,  I  thought. 
It  now  occurred  to  me,  that  the  bandage,  or  surcingle, 
which  enveloped  me,  was  unique.  I  was  tied  by  no 
separate  cord.  The  first  stroke  of  the  razor-like  cres 
cent  athwart  any  portion  of  the  band  would  so  detach 
it  that  it  might  be  unwound  from  my  person  by  means 

98 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 

of  my  left  hand.  But  how  fearful,  in  that  case,  the 
proximity  of  the  steel!  The  result  of  the  slightest 
struggle,  how  deadly!  Was  it  likely,  moreover,  that 
the  minions  of  the  torturer  had  not  foreseen  and  pro 
vided  for  this  possibility  ?  Was  it  probable  that  the 
bandage  crossed  my  bosom  in  the  track  of  the  pendu 
lum  ?  Dreading  to  find  my  faint  and,  as  it  seemed, 
my  last  hope  frustrated,  I  so  far  elevated  my  head  as 
to  obtain  a  distinct  view  of  my  breast.  The  surcingle 
enveloped  my  limbs  and  body  close  in  all  directions, 
save  in  the  path  of  the  destroying  crescent. 

Scarcely  had  I  dropped  my  head  back  into  its  original 
position,  when  there  flashed  upon  my  mind  what  I 
cannot  better  describe  than  as  the  unformed  half  of 
that  idea  of  deliverance  to  which  I  have  previously 
alluded,  and  of  which  a  moiety  only  floated  indeter 
minately  through  my  brain  when  I  raised  food  to  my 
burning  lips.  The  whole  thought  was  now  present, 
feeble,  scarcely  sane,  scarcely  definite,  but  still  entire. 
I  proceeded  at  once,  with  the  nervous  energy  of  despair, 
to  attempt  its  execution. 

For  many  hours  the  immediate  vicinity  of  the  low 
framework  upon  which  I  lay  had  been  literally  swarm 
ing  with  rats.  They  were  wild,  bold,  ravenous ;  their 
red  eyes  glaring  upon  me  as  if  they  waited  but  for 
motionlessness  on  my  part  to  make  me  their  prey. 
To  what  food,"  I  thought,  «  have  they  been  accus 
tomed  in  the  well  ?  " 


9P 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


They  had  devoured,  in  spite  of  all  my  efforts  to 
prevent  them,  all  but  a  small  remnant  of  the  contents 
of  the  dish.  I  had  fallen  into  an  habitual  see-saw  or 
wave  of  the  hand  about  the  platter;  and,  at  length, 
the  unconscious  uniformity  of  the  movement  de 
prived  it  of  effect.  In  their  voracity,  the  vermin  fre 
quently  fastened  their  sharp  fangs  in  my  fingers. 
With  the  particles  of  the  oily  and  spicy  viand  which 
now  remained,  I  thoroughly  rubbed  the  bandage 
wherever  I  could  reach  it;  then,  raising  my  hand 
from  the  floor,  I  lay  breathlessly  still. 

At  first,  the  ravenous  animals  were  startled  and 
terrified  at  the  change,  at  the  cessation  of  movement. 
They  shrank  alarmedly  back;  many  sought  the  well. 
But  this  was  only  for  a  moment.  I  had  not  counted 
in  vain  upon  their  voracity.  Observing  that  I  re 
mained  without  motion,  one  or  two  of  the  boldest 
leaped  upon  the  framework,  and  smelt  at  the  sur 
cingle.  This  seemed  the  signal  for  a  general  rush. 
Forth  from  the  well  they  hurried  in  fresh  troops. 
They  clung  to  the  wood,  they  overran  it,  and  leaped 
in  hundreds  upon  my  person.  The  measured  move 
ment  of  the  pendulum  disturbed  them  not  at  all. 
Avoiding  its  strokes,  they  busied  themselves  with  the 
anointed  bandage.  They  pressed,  they  swarmed  upon 
me  in  ever  accumulating  heaps.  They  writhed  upon 
my  throat ;  their  cold  lips  sought  my  own ;  I  was  half 
stifled  by  their  thronging  pressure ;  disgust,  for  which 

100 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


the  world  has  no  name,  swelled  my  bosom,  and  chilled, 
with  a  heavy  clamminess,  my  heart.  Yet  one  minute, 
and  I  felt  that  the  struggle  would  be  over.  Plainly  I 
perceived  the  loosening  of  the  bandage.  I  knew  that 
in  more  than  one  place  it  must  be  already  severedo 
With  a  more  than  human  resolution  I  lay  still. 

Nor  had  I  erred  in  my  calculations,  nor  had  I  en 
dured  in  vain.  I  at  length  felt  that  I  was  free.  The 
surcingle  hung  in  ribands  from  my  body.  But  the 
stroke  of  the  pendulum  already  pressed  upon  my 
bosom.  It  had  divided  the  serge  of  the  robe.  It  had 
cut  through  the  linen  beneath.  Twice  again  it  swung, 
and  a  sharp  sense  of  pain  shot  through  every  nerve. 
But  the  moment  of  escape  had  arrived.  At  a  wave  of 
my  hand  my  deliverers  hurried  tumultuously  away. 
With  a  steady  movement,  cautious,  sidelong,  shrink 
ing,  and  slow,  I  slid  from  the  embrace  of  the  bandage 
and  beyond  the  reach  of  the  cimeter.  For  the  mo 
ment,  at  least,  I  was  free. 

Free!  and  in  the  grasp  of  the  Inquisition!  I  had 
scarcely  stepped  from  my  wooden  bed  of  horror  upon 
the  stone  floor  of  the  prison,  when  the  motion  of  the 
hellish  machine  ceased,  and  I  beheld  it  drawn  up,  by 
some  invisible  force,  through  the  ceiling.  This  was  a 
lesson  which  I  took  desperately  to  heart.  My  every 
motion  was  undoubtedly  watched.  Free!  I  had  but 
escaped  death  in  one  form  of  agony,  to  be  delivered 
unto  worse  than  death  in  some  other.  With  that 

101 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 


thought  I  rolled  my  eyes  nervously  around  on  the 
barriers  of  iron  that  hemmed  me  in.  Something  un 
usual,  some  change  which,  at  first,  I  could  not  appre 
ciate  distinctly,  it  was  obvious,  had  taken  place  in  the 
apartment.  For  many  minutes  of  a  dreamy  and 
trembling  abstraction,  I  busied  myself  in  vain,  uncon 
nected  conjecture.  During  this  period,  I  became 
aware,  for  the  first  time,  of  the  origin  of  the  sul 
phurous  light  which  illumined  the  cell.  It  proceeded 
from  a  fissure,  about  half  an  inch  in  width,  extending 
entirely  around  the  prison  at  the  base  of  the  walls, 
which  thus  appeared,  and  were,  completely  separated 
from  the  floor.  I  endeavored,  but  of  course  in  vain, 

to  look  through  the  aperture. 

• 
As  I  arose  from  the  attempt,  the  mystery  of  the 

alteration  in  the  chamber  broke  at  once  upon  my  un 
derstanding.  I  have  observed  that,  although  the  out 
lines  of  the  figures  upon  the  walls  were  sufficiently 
distinct,  yet  the  colors  seemed  blurred  and  indefinite. 
These  colors  had  now  assumed,  and  were  momentarily 
assuming,  a  startling  and  most  intense  brilliancy,  that 
gave  to  the  spectral  and  fiendish  portraitures  an  aspect 
that  might  have  thrilled  even  firmer  nerves  than  my 
own.  Demon  eyes,  of  a  wild  and  ghastly  vivacity, 
glared  upon  me  in  a  thousand  directions,  where  none 
had  been  visible  before,  and  gleamed  with  the  lurid 
lustre  of  a  fire  that  I  could  not  force  my  imagination 
to  regard  as  unreal. 

1 02 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 

Unreal!  Even  while  I  breathed  there  came  to  my 
nostrils  the  breath  of  the  vapor  of  heated  iron!  A 
suffocating  odor  pervaded  the  prison!  A  deeper  glow 
settled  each  moment  in  the  eyes  that  glared  at  my 
agonies!  A  richer  tint  of  crimson  diffused  itself  over 
the  pictured  horrors  of  blood.  I  panted!  I  gasped 
for  breath !  There  could  be  no  doubt  of  the  tfeiign  of 
my  tormentors,  oh,  most  unrelenting!  oh,  most  de 
moniac  of  men!  I  shrank  from  the  glowing  metal 
to  the  centre  of  the  cell.  Amid  the  thought  of  the  fiery 
destruction  that  impended,  the  idea  of  the  coolness  of 
the  well  came  over  my  soul  like  balm.  I  rushed  to  its 
deadly  brink,  I  threw  my  straining  vision  below.  The 
glare  from  the  enkindled  roof  illumined  its  inmost 
recesses.  Yet  for  a  wild  moment  did  my  spirit  refuse 
to  comprehend  the  meaning  of  what  I  saw.  At 
length  it  forced,  it  wrestled  its  way  into  my  soul;  it 
burned  itself  in  upon  my  shuddering  reason.  Oh,  for 
a  voice  to  speak!  oh,  horror!  oh,  any  horror  but 
this!  With  a  shriek,  I  rushed  from  the  margin,  and 
buried  my  face  in  my  hands,  weeping  bitterly. 

The  heal  rapidly  increased,  and  once  again  I  looked 
up,  shuddering  as  with  a  fit  of  the  ague.  There  had 
been  a  second  change  in  the  cell,  and  now  the  change 
was  obviously  in  the  form.  As  before,  it  was  in  vain 
that  I  at  first  endeavored  to  appreciate  or  understand 
what  was  taking  place.  But  not  long  was  I  left  in 
doubt.  The  Inquisitorial  vengeance  had  been  hurried 

103 


The  Pit  and  the  Pendulum 

by  my  twofold  escape,  and  there  w#s  to  be  no  more/ 
dallying  with  tfoe  King  of  Terrprt  The  room  had 
been  square.  1  saw  that  two  of  its  iron  angles  were 
now  acute,  tw*.,  consequently,  obtuse.  The  fearful 
difference  quickly  increased  with  a  low  rumbling  or 
moaning  sourid.  In  an  instant  the  apartment  had 
shifted  its  form  into  that  of  a  lozenge.  But  the  altera 
tion  stopped  not  here :  I  neither  hoped  nor  desired  it  to 
stop.  I  could  have  clasped  the  red  walls  to  my  bosom 
as  a  garment  of  eternal  peace.  "  Death,"  I  said, 
"  any  death  but  that  of  the  pit !  "  Fool !  might  I  not 
have  known  that  into  the  pit  it  was  the  object  of  the 
burning  iron  to  urge  me  ?  Could  I  resist  its  glow  ? 
or  if  even  that,  could  I  withstand  its  pressure  ?  And 
now,  flatter  and  flatter  grew  the  lozenge,  with  a 
rapidity  that  left  me  no  time  for  contemplation.  Its 
centre,  and  of  course  its  greatest  width,  came  just  over 
the  yawning  gulf.  I  shrank  back,  but  the  closing 
walls  pressed  me  resistlessly  onward.  At  length  for 
my  seared  and  writhing  body  there  was  no  longer  an 
inch  of  foothold  on  the  firm  floor  of  the  prison.  I 
struggled  no  more,  but  the  agony  of  my  soul  found 
vent  in  one  loud,  long,  and  final  scream  of  despair. 
I  felt  that  I  tottered  upon  the  brink,  I  averted  my 

eyes 

There  was  a  discordant  hum  of  human  voices! 
There  was  a  loud  blast  as  of  many  trumpets!  There 
was  a  harsh  grating  as  of  a  thousand  thunders!  The 

104 


Thi    °it  and  the  Pendulum 



Jery  walls  rushet  ack!  An  outstretched  arm  caught 
my  own  as  I  fell,  'ainting,  into  the  rbyss.  It  was 
hat  of  General  Lasalle.  The  French  army  had  entered 
Toledo.  The  Inquisition  was  in  thi  hands  of  its 
enemies. 


105 


The  Tell-Tale  Heart 


RUE!  nervous,  very,  very  dreadfully  nervous 
I  had  been  and  am;  but  why  will  you  say 
that  I  am  mad  ?  The  disease  had  sharp 
ened  my  senses,  not  destroyed,  not  dulled  them.  Above 
all  was  the  sense  of  hearing  acute.  I  heard  all  things 
in  the  heaven  and  in  the  earth.  I  heard  many  things 
in  hell.  How,  then,  am  I  mad  ?  Hearken !  and  ob 
serve  how  healthily,  how  calmly  I  can  tell  you  the 
whole  story. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  how  first  the  idea  entered  my 
brain;  but,  once  conceived,  it  haunted  me  day  and 
night.  Object  there  was  none.  Passion  there  was 
none.  I  loved  the  old  man.  He  had  never  wronged 
me.  He  had  never  given  me  insult.  For  his  gold  I 
had  no  desire.  I  think  it  was  his  eye !  yes,  it  was  this ! 
One  of  his  eyes  resembled  that  of  a  vulture,  a  pale 
blue  eye,  with  a  film  over  it.  Whenever  it  fell  upon 
me,  my- blood  ran  cold;  and  so  by  degrees,  very 
gradually,  I  made  up  my  mind  to  take  the  life  of  the 
old  man,  and  thus  rid  myself  of  the  eye  forever. 

106 


The  Tell-Tale  Heart 


Jow  this  is  the  point.  You  fancy  me  mad.  Mad 
men  know  nothing.  But  you  should  have  seen  me. 
You  should  have  seen  how  wisely  I  proceeded;  with 
what  caution,  with  what  foresight,  with  what  dissimu 
lation  I  went  to  work !  I  was  never  kinder  to  the  old 
man  than  during  the  whole  week  before  I  killed  him. 
And  every  night,  about  midnight,  I  turned  the  latch 
of  his  door  and  opened  it — oh,  so  gently!  And  then, 
when  I  had  made  an  opening  sufficient  for  my  head, 
I  put  in  a  dark  lantern,  all  closed,  closed  so  that  no 
light  shone  out,  and  then  I  thrust  in  my  head.  Oh, 
you  would  have  laughed  to  see  how  cunningly  I  thrust 
it  in !  I  moved  it  slowly — very,  very  slowly,  so  that 
I  might  not  disturb  the  old  man's  sleep.  It  took  me 
an  hour  to  place  my  whole  head  within  the  opening 
so  far  that  I  could  see  him  as  he  lay  upon  his  bed. 
Ha !  would  a  madman  have  been  so  wise  as  this  ? 
And  then,  when  my  head  was  well  in  the  room,  I 
undid  the  lantern  cautiously — oh,  so  cautiously,  cau 
tiously  (for  the  hinges  creaked) ;  I  undid  it  just  so 
much  that  a  single  thin  ray  fell  upon  the  vulture  eye. 
And  this  I  did  for  seven  long  nights,  every  night  just  at 
midnight,  but  I  found  the  eye  always  closed ;  and  so  it 
was  impossible  to  do  the  work ;  for  it  was  not  the  old 
man  who  vexed  me,  but  his  evil  eye.  And  every 
morning,  when  the  day  broke,  I  went  boldly  into  the 
chamber,  and  spoke  courageously  to  him,  calling  him 
by  name  in  a  hearty  tone,  and  inquiring  how  he  had 

107 

k 


The  Tell-Tale  Heart 

passed  the  night.  So  you  see  he  would  have  been  a 
very  profound  old  man,  indeed,  to  suspect  that  every 
night,  just  at  twelve,  I  looked  in  upon  him  while  he 
slept. 

Upon  the  eighth  night  I  was  more  than  usually 
cautious  in  opening  the  door.  A  watch's  minute-hand 
moves  more  quickly  than  did  mine.  Never  before 
that  night  had  I  felt  the  extent  of  my  own  powers — of 
my  sagacity.  I  could  scarcely  contain  my  feelings  of 
triumph.  To  think  that  there  I  was,  opening  the 
door,  little  by  little,  and  he  not  even  to  dream  of  my 
secret  deeds  or  thoughts.  I  fairly  chuckled  at  the 
idea;  and  perhaps  he  heard  me;  for  he  moved  on 
the  bed  suddenly,  as  if  startled.  Now  you  may  think 
that  I  drew  back,  but  no.  His  room  was  as  black  as 
pitch  with  the  thick  darkness  (for  the  shutters  were 
close  fastened,  through  fear  of  robbers),  and  so  I  knew 
that  he  could  not  see  the  opening  of  the  door,  and  I 
kept  pushing  it  on  steadily,  steadily. 

I  had  my  head  in  and  was  about  to  open  the  lantern, 
when  my  thumb  slipped  upon  the  tin  fastening,  and 
the  old  man  sprang  up  in  the  bed,  crying  out,  "  Who  Js 
there  ?  " 

I  kept  quite  still  and  said  nothing.  For  a  whole 
hour  I  did  not  move  a  muscle,  and  in  the  meantime  I 
did  not  hear  him  lie  down.  He  was  still  sitting  up  in 
the  bed  listening;  just  as  I  have  done,  night  after 
night,  hearkening  to  the  death-watches  in  the  wall. 

108 


The  Tell-Tale  Heart 


Presently  I  heard  a  slight  groan,  and  I  knew  it  was 
the  groan  of  mortal  terror.  It  was  not  a  groan  of 
pain  or  of  grief;  oh,  no!  it  was  the  low,  stifled  sound 
that  arises  from  the  bottom  of  the  soul  when  over 
charged  with  awe.  I  knew  the  sound  well.  Many  a 
night,  just  at  midnight,  when  all  the  world  slept,  it 
has  welled  up  from  my  own  bosom,  deepening,  with 
its  dreadful  echo,  the  terrors  that  distracted  me.  I 
say  I  knew  it  well.  I  knew  what  the  old  man  felt,  and 
pitied  him,  although  I  chuckled  at  heart.  I  knew  that 
he  had  been  lying  awake  ever  since  the  first  slight  noise 
when  he  had  turned  in  the  bed.  His  fears  had  been 
ever  since  growing  upon  him.  He  had  been  trying 
to  fancy  them  causeless,  but  could  not.  He  had  been 
saying  to  himself:  "  It  is  nothing  but  the  wind  in  the 
chimney,  it  is  only  a  mouse  crossing  the  floor,"  or  "  it 
is  merely  a  cricket  which  has  made  a  single  chirp." 
Yes,  he  has  been  trying  to  comfort  himself  with  these 
suppositions;  but  he  had  found  all  in  vain.  All  in 
vain ;  because  Death,  in  approaching  him,  had  stalked 
with  his  black  shadow  before  him,  and  enveloped  the 
victim.  And  it  was  the  mournful  influence  of  the  un- 
perceived  shadow  that  caused  him  to  feel,  although  he 
neither  saw  nor  heard,  to  feel  the  presence  of  my 
head  within  the  room. 

When  I  had  waited  a  long  time,  very  patiently, 
without  hearing  him  lie  down,  I  resolved  to  open  a 
little,  a  very,  very  little  crevice  in  the  lantern.  So  I 

109 


The  Tell-Tale  Heart 


opened  it — you  cannot  imagine  how  stealthily,  steal 
thily — until,  at  length,  a  single  dim  ray,  like  the  thread 
of  the  spider,  shot  from  out  the  crevice  and  full  upon 
the  vulture  eye. 

It  was  open,  wide,  wide  open,  and  I  grew  furious  as  I 
gazed  upon  it.  I  saw  it  with  perfect  distinctness,  all  a 
dull  blue,  with  a  hideous  veil  over  it  that  chilled  the 
very  marrow  in  my  bones ;  but  I  could  see  nothing  else 
of  the  old  man's  face  or  person:  for  I  had  directed 
the  ray  as  if  by  instinct  precisely  upon  the  damned 
spot. 

And  now  have  I  not  told  you  that  what  you  mistake 
for  madness  is  but  overacuteness  of  the  senses  ?  now, 
I  say,  there  came  to  my  ears  a  low,  dull,  quick  sound, 
such  as  a  watch  makes  when  enveloped  in  cotton.  I 
knew  that  sound  well  too.  It  was  the  beating  of  the 
old  man's  heart.  It  increased  my  fury,  as  the  beating 
of  a  drum  stimulates  the  soldier  into  courage. 

But  even  yet  I  refrained  and  kept  still.  I  scarcely 
breathed.  I  held  the  lantern  motionless.  I  tried  how 
steadily  I  could  maintain  the  ray  upon  the  eye.  Mean 
time  the  hellish  tattoo  of  the  heart  increased.  It  grew 
quicker  and  quicker,  and  louder  and  louder  every  in 
stant.  The  old  man's  terror  must  have  been  extreme ! 
It  grew  louder,  I  say,  louder  every  moment!  do  you 
mark  me  well  ?  I  have  told  you  that  I  am  nervous : 
so  I  am.  And  now  at  the  dead  hour  of  the  night, 
amid  the  dreadful  silence  of  that  old  house,  so  strange 

no 


I    o 

U      M 


uj    6 

i   2 


^  g 


The  Tell-Tale  Heart 


a  noise  as  this  excited  me  to  uncontrollable  terror. 
Yet,  for  some  minutes  longer  I  refrained  and  stood 
still.  But  the  beating  grew  louder,  louder!  I 
thought  the  heart  must  burst.  And  now  a  new 
anxiety  seized  me,  the  sound  would  be  heard  by  a 
neighbor!  The  old  man's  hour  had  come!  With  a 
loud  yell,  I  threw  open  the  lantern  and  leaped  into  the 
room.  He  shrieked  once — once  only.  In  an  instant  I 
dragged  him  to  the  floor,  and  pulled  the  heavy  bed 
over  him.'  I  then  smiled  gaily,  to  find  the  deed  so  far 
done.  But,  for  many  minutes,  the  heart  beat  on  with 
a  muffled  sound.  This,  however,  did  not  vex  me;  it 
would  not  be  heard  through  the  wall.  At  length  it 
ceased.  The  old  man  was  dead.  I  removed  the  bed 
and  examined  the  corpse.  Yes,  he  was  stone;  stone 
dead.  I  placed  my  hand  upon  the  heart  and  held  it 
there  many  minutes.  There  was  no  pulsation.  He 
was  stone  dead.  His  eye  would  trouble  me  no  more. 

If  still  you  think  me  mad,  you  will  think  so  no 
longer  when  I  describe  the  wise  precautions  I  took 
for  the  concealment  of  the  body.  The  night  waned, 
and  I  worked  hastily,  but  in  silence.  First  of  all  I 
dismembered  the  corpse.  I  cut  off  the  head  and  the 
arms  and  the  legs. 

I  then  took  up  three  planks  from  the  flooring  of  the 
chamber,  and  deposited  all  between  the  scantlings.  I 
then  replaced  the  boards  so  cleverly,  so  cunningly, 
that  no  human  eye,  not  even  his,  could  have  detected 

in 


The  Tell-Tale  Heart 


anything  wrong.  There  was  nothing  to  wash  out,  no 
stain  of  any  kind;  no  blood-spot  whatever.  I  had 
been  too  wary  for  that.  A  tub  had  caught  all ;  ha !  ha ! 
When  I  had  made  an  end  of  these  labors,  it  was 
four  o'clock;  still  dark  as  midnight.  As  the  bell 
sounded  the  hour,  there  came  a  knocking  at  the 
street  door.  I  went  down  to  open  it  with  a  light 
heart ;  for  what  had  I  now  to  fear  ?  There  entered 
three  men,  who  introduced  themselves,  with  perfect 
suavity,  as  officers  of  the  police.  A  shriek  had  been 
heard  by  a  neighbor  during  the  night;  suspicion  of 
foul  play  had  been  aroused;  information  had  been 
lodged  at  the  police  office,  and  they  (the  officers)  had 

been  deputed  to  search  the  premises. 

* 

I  smiled,  for  what  had  I  to  fear  ?  I  bade  the  gentle 
men  welcome.  The  shriek,  I  said,  was  my  own  in  a 
dream.  The  old  man,  I  mentioned,  was  absent  in  the 
country.  I  took  my  visitors  all  over  the  house.  I 
bade  them  search — search  well.  I  led  them,  at  length, 
to  his  chamber.  I  showed  them  his  treasures,  secure, 
undisturbed.  In  the  enthusiasm  of  my  confidence,  I 
brought  chairs  into  the  room,  and  desired  them  here 
to  rest  from  their  fatigues,  while  I  myself,  in  the  wild 
audacity  of  my  perfect  triumph,  placed  my  own  seat 
upon  the  very  spot  beneath  which  reposed  the  corpse 
of  the  victim. 

The  officers  were  satisfied.  My  manner  had  con 
vinced  them.  I  was  singularly  at  ease.  They  sat, 

112 


The  Tell-Tale  Heart 


and  while  I  answered  cheerily,  they  chatted  of  familiar 
things.  But,  ere  long,  I  felt  myself  getting  pale  and 
wished  them  gone.  My  head  ached,  and  I  fancied  a 
ringing  in  my  ears ;  but  still  they  sat  and  still  chatted. 
The  ringing  became  more  distinct:  it  continued  and 
became  more  distinct:  I  talked  more  freely  to  get  rid 
of  the  feeling ;  but  it  continued  and  gained  definitive- 
ness,  until,  at  length,  I  found  that  the  noise  was  not 
within  my  ears. 

No  doubt  I  now  grew  very  pale ;  but  I  talked  more 
fluently,  and  with  a  heightened  voice.  Yet  the  sound 
increased,  and  what  could  I  do  ?  It  was  a  low,  dull, 
quick  sound;  much  such  a  sound  as  a  watch  makes 
when  enveloped  in  cotton.  I  gasped  for  breath,  and 
yet  the  officers  heard  it  not.  I  talked  more  quickly, 
more  vehemently ;  but  the  noise  steadily  increased.  I 
arose  and  argued  about  trifles,  in  a  high  key  and  with 
violent  gesticulations,  but  the  noise  steadily  increased. 
Why  would  they  not  be  gone  ?  I  paced  the  floor  to 

!  and  fro  with  heavy  strides,  as  if  excited  to  fury  by  the 
observation  of  the  men;  but  the  noise  steadily  in 
creased.  Oh  God !  what  could  I  do  ?  I  foamed,  I 
raved,  I  swore!  I  swung  the  chair  upon  which  I 
had  been  sitting,  and  grated  it  upon  the  boards,  but 
the  noise  arose  over  all  and  continually  increased.  It 
grew  louder,  louder,  louder!  And  still  the  men 
chatted  pleasantly,  and  smiled.  Was  it  possible  they 

^heard  not?    Almighty  God!  no,   no!     They  heard! 


The  Tell-Tale  Heart 


they  suspected!  they  knew!  they  were  making  a 
mockery  of  my  horror!  this  i  thought,  and  this  I 
think.  But  anything  was  better  than  this  agony! 
Anything  was  more  tolerable  than  this  derision!  I 
could  bear  those  hypocritical  smiles  no  longer!  I  felt 
that  I  must  scream  or  die!  and  now — again!  hark! 

louder!  louder!  louder!  louder! 

"Villains!"  I  shrieked,  "dissemble  no  more!  I 
admit  the  deed !  Tear  up  the  planks !  here,  here !  It 
is  the  beating  of  his  hideous  heart!  " 


The  Gold-Bug 

What  ho !  what  ho !  this  fellow  is  dancing  mad ! 
He  hath  been  bitten  by  the  Tarantula. 

— An  in  the  Wrong. 


ANY  years  ago,  I  contracted  an  intimacy  with 
a  Mr.  William  Legrand.  He  was  of  an 
ancient  Huguenot  family,  and  had  once  been 
wealthy;  but  a  series  of  misfortunes  had  reduced  him 
to  want.  To  avoid  the  mortification  consequent  upon 
his  disasters,  he  left  New  Orleans,  the  city  of  his  fore 
fathers,  and  took  up  his  residence  at  Sullivan's  Island, 
near  Charleston,  South  Carolina. 

This  island  is  a  very  singular  one.  It  consists  of 
little  else  than  the  sea  sand,  and  is  about  three  miles 
long.  Its  breadth  at  no  point  exceeds  a  quarter  of  a 
mile.  It  is  separated  from  the  mainland  by  a  scarcely 
perceptible  creek,  oozing  its  way  through  a  wilderness 
of  reeds  and  slime,  a  favorite  resort  of  the  marsh-hen. 
The  vegetation,  as  might  be  supposed,  is  scant,  or  at 
least  dwarfish.  No  trees  of  any  magnitude  are  to  be 


The   Gold-Bug 

seen.  Near  the  western  extremity,  where  Fort  Moul- 
trie  stands,  and  where  are  some  miserable  frame 
buildings,  tenanted,  during  summer,  by  the  fugitives 
from  Charleston  dust  and  fever,  may  be  found,  indeed, 
the  bristly  palmetto;  but  the  whole  island,  with  the 
exception  of  this  western  point,  and  a  line  of  hard, 
white  beach  on  the  seacoast,  is  covered  with  a  dense 
undergrowth  of  the  sweet  myrtle  so  much  prized  by 
the  horticulturists  of  England.  The  shrub  here  often 
attains  the  height  of  fifteen  or  twenty  feet,  and  forms 
an  almost  impenetrable  coppice,  burdening  the  air  with 
its  fragrance. 

In  the  inmost  recesses  of  this  coppice,  not  far  from 
the  eastern,  or  more  remote,  end  of  the  island,  Legrand 
had  built  himself  a  small  hut,  which  he  occupied  when 
I  first,  by  mere  accident,  made  his  acquaintance.  This 
soon  ripened  into  friendship;  for  there  was  much  in 
the  recluse  to  excite  interest  and  esteem.  I  found 
him  well  educated,  with  unusual  powers  of  mind,  but 
infected  with  misanthropy,  and  subject  to  perverse 
moods  of  alternate  enthusiasm  and  melancholy.  He 
had  with  him  many  books,  but  rarely  employed  them. 
His  chief  amusements  were  gunning  and  fishing,  or 
sauntering  along  the  beach  and  through  the  myrtles, 
in  quest  of  shells  or  entomological  specimens;  his 
collection  of  the  latter  might  have  been  envied  by  a 
Swammerdamm.  In  these  excursions  he  was  usually 
accompanied  by  an  old  negro,  called  Jupiter,  who  had 

116 


The   Gold-Bug 

been  manumitted  before  the  reverses  of  the  family, 
but  who  could  be  induced,  neither  by  threats  nor  by 
promises,  to  abandon  what  he  considered  his  right  of 
attendance  upon  the  footsteps  of  his  young  "  Massa 
Will."  It  is  not  improbable  that  the  relatives  of  Le- 
grand,  conceiving  him  to  be  somewhat  unsettled  in 
intellect,  had  contrived  to  instil  this  obstinacy  into 
Jupiter,  with  a  view  to  the  supervision  and  guardianship 
of  the  wanderer. 

The  winters  in  the  latitude  of  Sullivan's  Island  are 
seldom  very  severe,  and  in  the  fall  of  the  year  it  is  a 
rare  event  indeed  when  a  fire  is  considered  necessary. 
About  the  middle  of  October,  18 — ,  there  occurred, 
however,  a  day  of  remarkable  chilliness.  Just  before 
sunset  I  scrambled  my  way  through  the  evergreens  to 
the  hut  of  my  friend,  whom  I  had  not  visited  for 
several  weeks,  my  residence  being,  at  that  time,  in 
Charleston,  a  distance  of  nine  miles  from  the  island, 
while  the  facilities  of  passage  and  repassage  were 
very  far  behind  those  of  the  present  day.  Upon 
reaching  the  hut  I  rapped,  as  was  my  custom,  and, 
getting  no  reply,  sought  for  the  key  where  I  knew  it 
was  secreted,  unlocked  the  door,  and  went  in.  A  fine 
fire  was  blazing  upon  the  hearth.  It  was  a  novelty, 
and  by  no  means  an  ungrateful  one.  I  threw  off  an 
overcoat,  took  an  armchair  by  the  crackling  logs, 
and  awaited  patiently  the  arrival  of  my  hosts. 

Soon  after  dark  they  arrived,  and  gave  me  a  most 
112 


The   Gold-Bug 

cordial  welcome.  Jupiter,  grinning  from  ear  to  ear, 
bustled  about  to  prepare  some  marsh-hens  for  supper. 
Legrand  was  in  one  of  his  fits — how  else  shall  I  term 
them  ? — of  enthusiasm.  He  had  found  an  unknown 
bivalve,  forming  a  new  genus,  and,  more  than  this,  he 
had  hunted  down  and  secured,  with  Jupiter's  assis 
tance,  a  scarabaeus  which  he  believed  to  be  totally 
new,  but  in  respect  to  which  he  wished  to  have  my 
opinion  on  the  morrow. 

"  And  why  not  to-night  ?  "  I  asked,  rubbing  my 
hands  over  the  blaze,  and  wishing  the  whole  tribe  of 
scarabaei  at  the  devil. 

"  Ah,  if  I  had  only  known  you  were  here !  "  said 
Legrand,  "  but  it 's  so  long  since  I  saw  you ;  and  how 
could  I  foresee  that  you  would  pay  me  a  visit  this  very 
night  of  all  others  ?  As  I  was  coming  home  I  met 

Lieutenant  G ,  from  the  fort,  and,  very  foolishly, 

I  lent  him  the  bug;  so  it  will  be  impossible  for  you 
to  see  it  until  the  morning.  Stay  here  to-night,  and  I 
will  send  Jup  down  for  it  at  sunrise.  It  is  the  loveliest 
thing  in  creation !  " 

"What!  sunrise?" 

"  Nonsense !  no !  the  bug.  It  is  of  a  brilliant  gold 
color,  about  the  size  of  a  large  hickory-nut,  with  two 
jet-black  spots  near  one  extremity  of  the  back,  and 
another,  somewhat  longer,  at  the  other.  The  antennae 
are " 

"  Dey  ain't  no  tin  in  him,  Massa  Will,  I  keep  a-tellin1 
118 


The   Gold-Bug 

on  you,"  here  interrupted  Jupiter;  "  de  bug  is  a  goole- 
bug,  solid,  ebery  bit  of  him,  inside  and  all,  sep  him 
wing;  neber  feel  half  so  hebby  a  bug  in  my  life." 

"  Well,  suppose  it  is,  Jup,"  replied  Legrand,  some 
what  more  earnestly,  it  seemed  to  me,  than  the  case  de 
manded  ;  "  is  that  any  reason  for  your  letting  the  birds 
burn  ?  The  color,"  here  he  turned  to  me,  "  is  really 
almost  enough  to  warrant  Jupiter's  idea.  You  never 
saw  a  more  brilliant  metallic  lustre  than  the  scales 
emit;  but  of  this  you  cannot  judge  till  to-morrow. 
In  the  meantime  I  can  give  you  some  idea  of 
the  shape."  Saying  this,  he  seated  himself  at  a 
small  table,  on  which  were  a  pen  and  ink,  but 
no  paper.  He  looked  for  some  in  a  drawer,  but 
found  none. 

"  Never  mind,"  he  said  at  length,  "  this  will  an 
swer  " ;  and  he  drew  from  his  waistcoat  pocket  a  scrap 
of  what  I  took  to  be  very  dirty  foolscap,  and  made 
upon  it  a  rough  drawing  with  a  pen.  While  he  did 
this,  I  retained  my  seat  by  the  fire,  for  I  was  still 
chilly.  When  the  design  was  complete,  he  handed  it 
to  me  without  rising.  As  I  received  it,  a  loud  growl  was 
heard,  succeeded  by  a  scratching  at  the  door.  Jupiter 
opened  it,  and  a  large  Newfoundland,  belonging  to 
Legrand,  rushed  in,  leaped  upon  my  shoulders,  and 
loaded  me  with  caresses;  for  I  had  shown  him  much 
attention  during  previous  visits.  When  his  gambols 
were  over,  I  looked  at  the  paper,  and,  to  speak  the 

119 


The   Gold-Bug 

truth,  found  myself  not  a  little  puzzled  at  what  my 
friend  had  depicted. 

"  Well !  "  I  said,  after  contemplating  it  for  some 
minutes,  "  this  is  a  strange  scarabaeus,  I  must  con 
fess;  new  to  me;  never  saw  anything  like  it  before, 
unless  it  was  a  skull,  or  a  death's-head,  which  it  more 
nearly  resembles  than  anything  else  that  has  come 
under  my  observation." 

"  A  death's-head!  "  echoed  Legrand.  "  Oh,  yes- 
well,  it  has  something  of  that  appearance  upon  paper, 
no  doubt.  The  two  upper  black  spots  look  like  eyes, 
eh  ?  and  the  longer  one  at  the  bottom  like  a  mouth ; 
and  then  the  shape  of  the  whole  is  oval." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  said  I;  "  but,  Legrand,  I  fear  you  are 
no  artist.  I  must  wait  until  I  see  the  beetle  itself,  if  I 
am  to  form  any  idea  of  its  personal  appearance." 

"  Well,  I  don't  know,"  said  he,  a  little  nettled,  "  I 
draw  tolerably — should  do  it  at  least — have  had  good 
masters,  and  flatter  myself  that  I  am  not  quite  a 
blockhead." 

"  But,  my  dear  fellow,  you  are  joking  then,"  said  I; 
"  this  is  a  very  passable  skull ;  indeed,  I  may  say  that 
it  is  a  very  excellent  skull,  according  to  the  vulgar 
notions  about  such  specimens  of  physiology,  and  your 
scarabaeus  must  be  the  queerest  scarabaeus  in  the 
world  if  it  resembles  it.  Why,  we  may  get  up  a  very 
thrilling  bit  of  superstition  upon  this  hint.  I  pre 
sume  you  will  call  the  bug  scarabaeus  caput  hominist 

120 


THE  GOLD  BUG 
Here  again  he  made  an  anxious  examination  of  the  paper.' 


The   Gold-Bug 

or  something  of  that  kind;  there  are  many  similar 
titles  in  the  Natural  Histories.  But  where  are  the 
antennae  you  spoke  of  ?  " 

"  The  antennae !  "  said  Legrand,  who  seemed  to  be 
getting  unaccountably  warm  upon  the  subject ;  "  I  am 
sure  you  must  see  the  antennae.  I  made  them  as 
distinct  as  they  are  in  the  original  insect,  and  I  pre 
sume  that  is  sufficient." 

"Well,  well,"  I  said,  "perhaps  you  have;  still  I 
don't  see  them  " ;  and  I  handed  him  the  paper  with 
out  additional  remark,  not  wishing  to  ruffle  his  temper, 
but  I  was  much  surprised  at  the  turn  affairs  had  taken ; 
his  ill-humor  puzzled  me,  and,  as  for  the  drawing  of 
the  beetle,  there  were  positively  no  antennae  visible, 
and  the  whole  did  bear  a  very  close  resemblance  to 
the  ordinary  cuts  of  a  death's-head. 

He  received  the  paper  very  peevishly,  and  was  about 
to  crumple  it,  apparently  to  throw  it  in  the  fire,  when 
a  casual  glance  at  the  design  seemed  suddenly  to  rivet 
his  attention.  In  an  instant  his  face  grew  violently 
red,  in  another  as  excessively  pale.  For  some  minutes 
he  continued  to  scrutinize  the  drawing  minutely  where 
he  sat.  At  length  he  arose,  took  a  candle  from  the 
table,  and  proceeded  to  seat  himself  upon  a  sea-chest 
in  the  farthest  corner  of  the  room.  Here  again  he 
made  an  anxious  examination  of  the  paper;  turning 
it  in  all  directions.  He  said  nothing,  however,  and 
his  conduct  greatly  astonished  me;  yet  I  thought  it 

121 


The   Gold-Bug 

prudent  not  to  exacerbate  the  growing  moodiness  of 
his  temper  by  any  comment.  Presently  he  took  from 
his  coat  pocket  a  wallet,  placed  the  paper  carefully 
in  it,  and  deposited  both  in  a  writing-desk,  which  he 
locked.  He  now  grew  more  composed  in  his  de 
meanor;  but  his  original  air  of  enthusiasm  had  quite 
disappeared.  Yet  he  seemed  not  so  much  sulky  as 
abstracted.  As  the  evening  wore  away  he  became 
more  and  more  absorbed  in  revery,  from  which  no 
sallies  of  mine  could  arouse  him.  It  had  been  my 
intention  to  pass  the  night  at  the  hut,  as  I  had  fre 
quently  dons  before,  but,  seeing  my  host  in  this  mood, 
I  deemed  it  proper  to  take  leave.  He  did  not  press 
me  to  remain,  but,  as  I  departed,  he  shook  my  hand 
with  even  more  than  his  usual  cordiality. 

It  was  about  a  month  after  this  (and  during  the  in 
terval  I  had  seen  nothing  of  Legrand)  when  I  received  a 
visit,  at  Charleston,  from  his  man,  Jupiter.  I  had  never 
seen  the  good  old  negro  look  so  dispirited,  and  I  feared 
that  some  serious  disaster  had  befallen  my  friend. 

"  Well,  Jup,"  said  I,  "  what  is  the  matter  now  ? 
how  is  your  master  ?  " 

"  Why,  to  speak  de  troof,  massa,  him  not  so  berry 
well  as  mought  be." 

"  Not  well !  I  am  truly  sorry  to  hear  it.  What  does 
he  complain  of  ?  " 

"  Bar !  dat  's  it !  him  neber  'plain  of  notin ;  but  him 
berry  sick  for  all  dat." 

122 


The   Gold-Bug 

"  Very  sick,  Jupiter !  why  did  n't  you  say  so  at 
once  ?  Is  he  confined  to  bed  ?  " 

"  No,  dat  he  ain't!  he  ain't  'fin'd  nowhar;  dat  's  just 
whar  de  shoe  pinch :  my  mind  is  got  to  be  berry  hebby 
'bout  poor  Massa  Will." 

"  Jupiter,  I  should  like  to  understand  what  it  is  you 
are  talking  about.  You  say  your  master  is  sicke 
Has  n't  he  told  you  what  ails  him  ?  " 

"  Why,  massa,  't  aint  worf  while  for  to  git  mad 
about  de  matter ;  Massa  Will  say  noffin  at  all  ain't  de 
matter  wid  him;  but  den  what  make  him  go  about 
looking  dis  here  way,  wid  he  head  down  and  he  soldiers 
up,  and  as  white  as  a  gose  ?  And  den  he  keep  a 
syphon  all  de  time " 

"  Keeps  a  what,  Jupiter  ?  " 

"  Keeps  a  syphon  wid  de  figgurs  on  de  slate ;  de 
queerest  figgurs  I  ebber  did  see.  Ise  gittin'  to  be 
skeered,  I  tell  you.  Hab  for  to  keep  mighty  tight 
eye  .'pon  him  'noovers.  Todder  day  he  gib  me 
slip  'fore  de  sun  up  and  was  gone  de  whole  ob  de 
blessed  day.  I  had  a  big  stick  ready  cut  for  to  gib 
him  deuced  good  beating  when  he  did  come;  but  Ise 
sich  a  fool  dat  I  had  n't  de  heart  arter  all,  he  looked  so 
berry  poorly." 

"  Eh  ?— what  ?— ah,  yes!— upon  the  whole  I  think 
you  had  better  not  be  too  severe  with  the  poor  fellow ; 
don't  flog  him,  Jupiter,  he  can't  very  well  stand  it ;  but 
can  you  form  no  idea  of  what  has  occasioned  this 

123 


The   Gold-Bug 

illness,  or  rather  this  change  of  conduct  ?     Has  any 
thing  unpleasant  happened  since  I  saw  you  ?  " 

"  No,  massa,  dey  ain't  bin  noffin  onpleasant  since 
den ;  't  was  'fore  den  I  'm  feared ;  't  was  de  berry  day 
you  was  dare." 

"  How  ?  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  massa,  I  mean  de  bug ;  dare  now." 

"  The  what  ?  " 

"  De  bug ;  I  'm  berry  sartain  dat  Massa  Will  bin  bit 
somewhere  'bout  de  head  by  dat  goole-bug." 

"  And  what  cause  have  you,  Jupiter,  for  such  a 
supposition  ?  " 

"  Claws  enuff,  massa,  and  mouff  too.  I  nebber  did 
see  sich  a  deuced  bug;  he  kick  and  he  bite  eberyting 
what  cum  near  him.  Massa  Will  cotch  him  fuss,  but 
had  for  to  let  him  go  'gin  mighty  quick,  I  tell  you ;  den 
was  de  time  he  must  ha'  got  de  bite.  I  did  n't  like  de 
look  ob  de  bug  mouff,  myself,  nohow,  so  I  would  n't 
take  hold  ob  him  wid  my  finger,  but  I  cotch  him.  wid 
a  piece  ob  paper  dat  I  found.  I  rap  him  up  in  de 
paper  and  stuff  a  piece  of  it  in  he  mouff;  dat  was  de 
way." 

"  And  you  think,  then,  that  your  master  was  really 
bitten  by  the  beetle,  and  that  the  bite  made  him  sick  ?  " 

"  I  don't  tink  noffin  about  it ;  I  nose  it.  What 
make  him  dream  'bout  de  goole  so  much,  if  't  aint 
'cause  he  bit  by  the  goole-bug  ?  Ise  heerd  'bout  dem 
goole-bugs  'fore  dis." 

124 


The   Gold-Bug 

"  But  how  do  you  know  he  dreams  about  gold  ?  " 
"  How  I  know  ?  why,  'cause  he  talk  about  it  in  he 
sleep ;  dat  's  how  I  nose." 

"  Well,  Jup,  perhaps  you  are  right ;  but  to  what  for 
tunate  circumstance  am  I  to  attribute  the  honor  of  a 
visit  from  you  to-day  ?  " 

"  What  de  matter,  massa  ?  " 

"  Did  you  bring  any  message  from  Mr.  Legrand  ?  " 
"  No,  massa,  I  bring  dis  here  pissel ;  "    and  here 
Jupiter  handed  ine  a  note  which  ran  thus : 


"  MY  DEAR , 

"  Why  have  I  not  seen  you  for  so  long  a  time  ?  I  hope  you 
have  not  been  so  foolish  as  to  take  offence  at  any  little  brus- 
querie  of  mine ;  but  no,  that  is  improbable. 

"  Since  I  saw  you  I  have  had  great  cause  for  anxiety.  I 
have  something  to  tell  you,  yet  scarcely  know  how  to  tell  it, 
or  whether  I  should  tell  it  at  all. 

"  I  have  not  been  quite  well  for  some  days  past,  and  poor 
old  Jup  annoys  me,  almost  beyond  endurance,  by  his  well- 
meant  attentions.  Would  you  believe  it  ?  he  had  prepared  a 
huge  stick,  the  other  day,  with  which  to  chastise  me  for  giving 
him  the  slip,  and  spending  the  day,  solus,  among  the  hills  on 
the  mainland.  I  verily  believe  that  my  ill  looks  alone  saved 
me  a  flogging. 

"  I  have  made  no  addition  to  my  cabinet  since  we  met. 

u  If  you  can,  in  any  way,  make  it  convenient,  come  over 
with  Jupiter.  Do  come.  I  wish  to  see  you  to-night,  upon 
business  of  importance.  I  assure  you  that  it  is  of  the  highest 
importance.  Ever  yours, 

"  WILLIAM  LEGRAND." 


The   Gold- Bug 

There  was  something  in  the  tone  of  this  note  which 
gave  me  great  uneasiness.  Its  whole  style  differed 
materially  from  that  of  Legrand.  What  could  he  be 
dreaming  of  ?  What  new  crotchet  possessed  his 
excitable  brain  ?  What  "  business  of  the  highest  im 
portance  "  could  he  possibly  have  to  transact  ?  Jupi 
ter's  account  of  him  boded  no  good.  I  dreaded  lest 
the  continued  pressure  of  misfortune  had,  at  length, 
fairly  unsettled  the  reason  of  my  friend.  Without  a 
moment's  hesitation,  therefore,  I  prepared  to  accom 
pany  the  negro. 

Upon  reaching  the  wharf,  I  noticed  a  scythe  and 
three  spades,  all  apparently  new,  lying  in  the  bottom 
of  the  boat  in  which  we  were  to  embark. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  all  this,  Jup  ?  "  I  in 
quired. 

"  Him  syfe,  massa,  and  spade." 

"  Very  true ;   but  what  are  they  doing  here  ?  " 

"  Him  de  syfe  and  de  spade  what  Massa  Will  'sis' 
'pon  my  buying  for  him  in  de  town,  and  de  debbil's 
own  lot  of  money  I  had  to  gib  for  'em." 

"  But  what,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  mysterious,  is 
your  *  Massa  Will '  going  to  do  with  scythes  and 
spades  ?  " 

"  Dat  's  more  dan  I  know,  and  debbil  take  me  if  I 
don't  b'lieve  't  is  more  dan  he  know  too.  But  it  's 
all  cum  ob  de  bug." 

Finding  that  no  satisfaction  was  to  be  obtained  of 
126 


The   Gold-Bug 

Jupiter,  whose  whole  intellect  seemed  to  be  absorbed 
by  "  de  bug,"  I  now  stepped  into  the  boat,  and  made 
sail.  With  a  fair  and  strong  breeze  we  soon  ran  into 
the  little  cove  to  the  northward  of  Fort  Moultrie,  and 
a  walk  of  some  two  miles  brought  us  to  the  hut.  It 
was  about  three  in  the  afternoon  when  we  arrived. 
Legrand  had  been  awaiting  us  in  eager  expectation. 
He  grasped  my  hand  with  a  nervous  empressement 
which  alarmed  me  and  strengthened  the  suspicions 
already  entertained.  His  countenance  was  pale  even 
to  ghastliness,  and  his  deep-set  eyes  glared  with  un 
natural  lustre.  After  some  inquiries  respecting  his 
health,  I  asked  him,  not  knowing  what  better  to  say, 
if  he  had  yet  obtained  the  scarabaeus  from  Lieutenant 

Q. ^ 

"  Oh,  yes,"  he  replied,  coloring  violently,  "  I  got  it 
from  him  the  next  morning.  Nothing  should  tempt 
me  to  part  with  that  scarabaeus.  Do  you  know  that 
Jupiter  is  quite  right  about  it  ?  " 

"  In  what  way  ?  "  I  asked,  with  a  sad  foreboding  at 
heart. 

"  In  supposing  it  to  be  a  bug  of  real  gold."  He  said 
this  with  an  air  of  profound  seriousness,  and  I  felt 
inexpressibly  shocked. 

"  This  bug  is  to  make  my  fortune,"  he  continued, 
with  a  triumphant  smile,  "  to  reinstate  me  in  my 
family  possessions.  Is  it  any  wonder,  then,  that  I 
prize  it  ?  Since  Fortune  has  thought  fit  to  bestow  it 

127 


The   Gold-Bug 

upon  me,  I  have  only  to  use  it  properly,  and  I  shall 
arrive  at  the  gold  of  which  it  is  the  index.  Jupiter, 
bring  me  that  scarabseus !  " 

"What!  de  bug,  massa  ?  I  M  rudder  not  go  fer 
trubble  dat  bug;  you  mus*  git  him  for  your  own  self." 
Hereupon  Legrand  arose,  with  a  grave  and  stately  air, 
and  brought  me  the  beetle  from  a  glass  case  in  which 
it  was  enclosed.  It  was  a  beautiful  scarabaeus,  and, 
at  that  time,  unknown  to  naturalists;  of  course  a 
great  prize  in  a  scientific  point  of  view.  There  were 
two  round  black  spots  near  one  extremity  of  the  back, 
and  a  long  one  near  the  other.  The  scales  were  ex 
ceedingly  hard  and  glossy,  with  all  the  appearance 
of  burnished  gold.  The  weight  of  the  insect  was  very 
remarkable,  and,  taking  all  things  into  consideration, 
I  could  hardly  blame  Jupiter  for  his  opinion  respecting 
it;  but  what  to  make  of  Legrand's  concordance  with 
that  opinion,  I  could  not,  for  the  life  of  me,  tell. 

"  I  sent  for  you,"  said  he,  in  a  grandiloquent  tone, 
when  I  had  completed  my  examination  of  the  beetle, 
— "  I  sent  for  you  that  I  might  have  your  counsel  and 
assistance  in  furthering  the  views  of  fate  and  of  the 
bug-  -" 

"  My  dear  Legrand,"  I  cried,  interrupting  him, 
"  you  are  certainly  unwell,  and  had  better  use  some 
little  precautions.  You  shall  go  to  bed,  and  I  will 
remain  with  you  a  lew  days,  until  you  get  over  this. 

You  are  feverish  and " 

128 


The   Gold-Bug 

"  Feel  my  pulse,"  said  he. 

I  felt  it,  and,  to  say  the  truth,  found  not  the  slightest 
indication  of  fever. 

"  But  you  may  be  ill,  and  yet  have  no  fever.  Allow 
me  this  once  to  prescribe  for  you.  In  the  first  place, 
go  to  bed.  In  the  next— 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  he  interposed;  "  I  am  as  well 
at  I  can  expect  to  be  under  the  excitement  which  I 
suffer.  If  you  really  wish  me  well,  you  will  relieve 
this  excitement." 

"  And  how  is  this  to  be  done  ?  " 

"  Very  easily.  Jupiter  and  myself  are  going  upon 
an  expedition  into  the  hills,  upon  the  mainland,  and 
in  this  expedition  we  shall  need  the  aid  of  some  per 
son  in  whom  we  can  confide.  You  are  the  only  one 
we  can  trust.  Whether  we  succeed  or  fail,  the  ex 
citement  which  you  now  perceive  in  me  will  be  equally 
allayed." 

"  I  am  anxious  to  oblige  you  in  any  way,"  I  replied; 
"  but  do  you  mean  to  say  that  this  infernal  beetle  has 
any  connection  with  your  expedition  into  the  hills  ?  " 

"  It  has." 

"  Then,  Legrand,  I  can  become  a  party  to  no  such 
absurd  proceeding." 

"  I  am  sorry,  very  sorry,  for  we  shall  have  to  try  it 
by  ourselves." 

"  Try  it  by  yourselves!  The  man  is  surely  mad! — 
but  stay !  how  long  do  you  propose  to  be  absent  ?  " 

VOL.V.^.  J2Q 


The   Gold-Bug 

"  Probably  all  night.  We  shall  start  immediately, 
and  be  back,  at  all  events,  by  sunrise." 

"  And  will  you  promise  me,  upon  your  honor,  that 
when  this  freak  of  yours  is  over,  and  the  bug  business 
(good  God !)  settled  to  your  satisfaction,  you  will  then 
return  home  and  follow  my  advice  implicitly,  as  that  of 
your  physician  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  I  promise ;  and  now  let  us  be  off,  for  we  have 
no  time  to  lose." 

With  a  heavy  heart  I  accompanied  my  friend.  We 
started  about  four  o'clock — Legrand,  Jupiter,  the  dog, 
and  myself.  Jupiter  had  with  him  the  scythe  and 
spades ;  the  whole  of  which  he  insisted  upon  carrying, 
more  through  fear,  it  seemed  to  me,  of  trusting  either 
of  the  implements  within  reach  of  his  master,  than 
from  any  excess  of  industry  or  complaisance.  His 
demeanor  was  dogged  in  the  extreme,  and  "  dat 
deuced  bug  "  were  the  sole  words  which  escaped  his 
lips  during  the  journey.  For  my  own  part,  I  had 
charge  of  a  couple  of  dark  lanterns,  while  Legrand 
contented  himself  with  the  scarabaeus,  which  he 
carried  attached  to  the  end  of  a  bit  of  whip-cord, 
twirling  it  to  and  fro,  with  the  air  of  a  conjurer,  as  he 
went.  When  I  observed  this  last,  plain  evidence  of 
my  friend's  aberration  of  mind,  I  could  scarcely  refrain 
from  tears.  I  thought  it  best,  however,  to  humor  his 
fancy,  at  least  for  the  present,  or  until  I  could  adopt 
«ome  more  energetic  measures  with  a  chance  of  success. 

MO 


The    Gold-Bug 

In  the  meantime  I  endeavored,  but  all  in  vain,  to  sound 
him  in  regard  to  the  object  of  the  expedition.  Having 
succeeded  in  inducing  me  to  accompany  him,  he 
seemed  unwilling  to  hold  conversation  upon  any  topic 
of  minor  importance,  and  to  all  my  qu  tions  vouch 
safed  no  other  reply  than  "  We  shall  see! " 

We  crossed  the  creek  at  the  head  of  the  island  b> 
means  of  a  skiff,  and,  ascending  the  high  grounds  on 
the  shore  of  the  mainland,  proceeded  in  a  north 
westerly  direction,  through  a  tract  of  country  ex 
cessively  wild  and  desolate,  where  no  trace  of  a  human 
footstep  was  to  be  seen.  Legrand  led  the  way  with 
decision;  pausing  only  for  an  instant,  here  and  there, 
to  consult  what  appeared  to  be  certain  landmarks  of 
his  own  contrivance  upon  a  former  occasion. 

In  this  manner  we  journeyed  for  about  two  hours, 
and  the  sun  was  just  setting  when  we  entered  a  region 
in  ;tely  more  dreary  than  any  yet  seen.  It  was  a 
species  of  tableland,  near  the  summit  of  an  almost  in 
accessible  hill,  densely  wooded  from  base  to  pinnacle, 
and  interspersed  with  huge  crags  that  appeared  to 
lie  loosely  upon  the  soil,  and  in  many  cases  were 
prevented  from  precipitating  themselves  into  the 
valleys  below  merely  by  the  support  of  the  trees 
against  which  they  reclined.  Deep  ravines,  in  various 
dircc._ons,  gave  an  air  of  still  sterner  solemnity  tc  the 
scene. 

The  natural     latform  to  which  we  had  clambered 


The   Gold-Bug 

was  thickly  overgrown  with  brambles,  through  which 
we  soon  discovered  that  it  would  have  been  impossible 
to  force  our  way  but  for  the  scythe;  and  Jupiter,  by 
direction  of  his  master,  proceeded  to  clear  for  us  a 
path  to  the  foot  of  an  enormously  tall  tulip-tree,  which 
stood,  with  some  eight  or  ten  oaks,  upon  the  level, 
and  far  surpassed  them  all,  and  all  other  trees  which 
I  had  then  ever  seen,  in  the  beauty  of  its  foliage  and 
form,  in  the  wide  spread  of  its  branches,  and  in  the 
general  majesty  of  its  appearance.  When  we  reached 
this  tree,  Legrand  turned  to  Jupiter,  and  asked  him  if 
he  thought  he  could  climb  it.  The  old  man  seemed  a 
little  staggered  by  the  question,  and  for  some  moments 
made  no  reply.  At  length  he  approached  the  huge 
trunk,  walked  slowly  around  it,  and  examined  it  with 
minute  attention.  When  he  had  completed  his  scru 
tiny,  he  merely  said : 

"  Yes,  massa,  Jup  climb  any  tree  he  ebber  see  in  he 
life." 

"  Then  up  with  you  as  soon  as  possible,  for  it  will 
soon  be  too  dark  to  see  what  we  are  about." 

"  How  far  mus'  go  up,  massa  ?  "  inquired  Jupiter. 

"  Get  up  the  main  trunk  first,  and  then  I  will  tell 
you  which  way  to  go,  and  here, — stop !  take  this  beetle 
with  you." 

"  De  bug,  Massa  Will!— de  goole-bug!  "  cried  the 
negro,  drawing  back  in  dismay;  "  what  for  mus'  tote  de 
bug  'way  up  de  tree  ? — d — n  if  I  do !  " 

132 


The   Gold-Bug 

"  If  you  are  afraid,  Jup,  a  great  big  negro  like  you, 
to  take  hold  of  a  harmless  little  dead  beetle,  why,  you 
can  carry  it  up  by  this  string;  but  if  you  do  not  take 
it  up  with  you  in  some  way,  I  shall  be  under  the 
necessity  of  breaking  your  head  with  this  shovel." 

"  What  de  matter  now,  massa  ?  "  said  Jup,  evidently 
shamed  into  compliance ;  "  always  want  for  to  raise 
fuss  wid  old  nigger.  Was  only  funnin'  anyhow.  Me 
feered  de  bug!  what  I  keer  for  de  bug  ?  "  Here  he 
took  cautiously  hold  of  the  extreme  end  of  the  string, 
and,  maintaining  the  insect  as  far  from  his  person  as 
circumstances  would  permit,  prepared  to  ascend  the 
tree. 

In  youth,  the  tulip-tree,  or  Liriodendron  Tullpiferaf 
the  most  magnificent  of  American  foresters,  has  a  trunk 
peculiarly  smooth,  and  often  rises  to  a  great  height 
without  lateral  branches;  but,  in  its  riper  age,  the 
bark  becomes  gnarled  and  uneven,  while  many  short 
limbs  make  their  appearance  on  the  stem.  Thus  the 
difficulty  of  ascension,  in  the  present  case,  lay  more 
in  semblance  than  in  reality.  Embracing  the  huge 
cylinder  as  closely  as  possible  with  his  arms  and 
knees,  seizing  with  his  hands  some  projections,  and 
resting  his  naked  toes  upon  others,  Jupiter,  after  one 
or  two  narrow  escapes  from  falling,  at  length  wriggled 
himself  into  the  first  great  fork,  and  seemed  to  con 
sider  the  whole  business  as  virtually  accomplished. 
The  risk  of  the  achievement  was,  in  fact,  now  over, 

133 


The   Gold-Bug 

although  the  climber  was  some  sixty  or  seventy  feet 
from  the  ground. 

"  Which  way  mus'  go  now,  Massa  Will  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Keep  up  the  largest  branch — the  one  on  this  side," 
said  Legrand.  The  negro  obeyed  him  promptly,  and 
apparently  with  but  little  trouble,  ascending  higher 
and  higher,  until  no  glimpse  of  his  squat  figure  could 
be  obtained  through  the  dense  foliage  which  enveloped 
it.  Presently  his  voice  was  heard  in  a  sort  of  halloo. 

"  How  much  fudder  is  got  for  go  ?  " 

"  How  high  up  are  you  ?  "  asked  Legrand. 

"  Ebber  so  fur,"  replied  the  negro;  "  can  see  de  sky 
fru  de  top  ob  de  tree." 

"  Never  mind  the  sky,  but  attend  to  what  I  say. 
Look  down  the  trunk  and  count  the  limbs  below  you 
on  this  side.  How  many  limbs  have  you  passed  ?  " 

"  One,  two,  tree,  four,  fibe ;  I  done  pass  fibe  big 
limb,  massa,  'pon  dis  side." 

"  Then  go  one  limb  higher." 

In  a  few  minutes  the  voice  was  heard  again,  an 
nouncing  that  the  seventh  limb  was  attained. 

"  Now,  Jup,"  cried  Legrand,  evidently  much  excited, 
"  I  want  you  to  work  your  way  out  upon  that  limb  as 
far  as  you  can.  If  you  see  anything  strange  let  me 
know." 

By  this  time  what  little  doubt  I  might  have  enter 
tained  of  my  poor  friend's  insanity  was  put  finally  at 
rest.  I  had  no  alternative  but  to  conclude  him  stricken 


The   Gold-Bug 

with  lunacy,  and  I  became  seriously  anxious  about 
getting  him  home.  While  I  was  pondering  upon  what 
was  best  to  be  done,  Jupiter's  voice  was  again  heard. 

"  Mos'  feerd  for  to  ventur  'pon  dis  limb  berry  far; 
't  is  dead  limb  putty  much  all  de  way." 

"  Did  you  say  it  was  a  dead  limb,  Jupiter  ?  "  cried 
Legrand  in  a  quavering  voice. 

"  Yes,  massa,  him  dead  as  de  door-nail,  done  up  for 
sartan,  done  departed  dis  here  life." 

"  What  in  the  name  of  heaven  shall  I  do  ?  "  asked 
Legrand,  seemingly  in  the  greatest  distress. 

"Do !  "  said  I,  glad  of  an  opportunity  to  interpose  a 
word;  "  why,  come  home  and  go  to  bed.  Come  now! 
that 's  a  fine  fellow.  It 's  getting  late,  and,  besides, 
you  remember  your  promise." 

"  Jupiter,"  cried  he,  without  heeding  me  in  the  least, 
"  do  you  hear  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Massa  Will,  hear  you  ebber  so  plain." 

"  Try  the  wood  well,  then,  with  your  knife,  and  see 
if  you  think  it  very  rotten." 

"  Him  rotten,  massa,  sure  'miff,"  replied  the  negro 
in  a  few  moments,  "  but  not  so  berry  rotten  as  mought 
be.  Mought  venture  out  leetle  way  'pon  de  limb  by 
myself,  dat  's  true." 

"  By  yourself!  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Why,  I  mean  de  bug.  'T  is  berry  hebby  bug. 
S'pose  I  drop  him  down  fuss,  and  den  de  limb  won't 
break  wid  just  de  weight  ob  one  nigger." 


The   Gold-Bug 

"  You  infernal  scoundrel !  "  cried  Legrand,  appar 
ently  much  relieved,  "  what  do  you  mean  by  telling 
me  such  nonsense  as  that  ?  As  sure  as  you  drop  that 
beetle,  I  '11  break  your  neck.  Look  here,  Jupiter,  do 
you  hear  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,massa;  need  n't  hollo  at  poor  nigger  dat  style." 

"  Well !  now  listen !  if  you  will  venture  out  on  the 
limb  as  far  as  you  think  safe,  and  not  let  go  the  beetle, 
I  '11  make  you  a  present  of  a  silver  dollar  as  soon  as 
you  get  down." 

"I'm  gwine,  Massa  Will,  'deed  I  is,"  replied  the 
negro  very  promptly,  "  mos'  out  to  the  eend  now." 

"  Out  to  the  end!  "  here  fairly  screamed  Legrand; 
"  do  you  say  you  are  out  to  the  end  of  that  limb  ?  " 

"  Soon  be  to  de  eend,  massa  — o-o-o-o-oh !  Lor- 
gol-a-marcy!  what  is  dis  here  'pon  de  tree  ?  " 

"Well!"  cried  Legrand,  highly  delighted,  "what 
is  it  ?  " 

"  Why,  tain't  noffin  but  a  skull;  somebody  bin  lef 
him  head  up  de  tree,  and  de  crows  done  gobble  ebery 
bit  ob  de  meat  off." 

"  A  skull,  you  say !  very  well,  how  is  it  fastened  to 
the  limb  ?  what  holds  it  on  ?  " 

"Sure  'nuff,  massa;  mus'  look.  Why,  dis  berry 
curous  sarcumstance,  'pon  my  word;  dare  's  a  great' 
big  nail  in  de  skull,  what  fastens  ob  it  on  to  de  tree." 

"  Well,  now,  Jupiter,  do  exactly  as  I  tell  you,  do  you 
hear  ?  " 

136 


The  Gold-Bug 

"  Yes,  massa." 

"  Pay  attention,  then ;  find  the  left  eye  of  the  skull." 

"  Hum !  hoo !  dat  's  good !  why,  dey  ain't  no  eye  lef ' 
at  all." 

"  Curse  your  stupidity!  do  you  know  your  right 
hand  from  your  left  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  knows  dat,  knows  all  bout  dat;  't  is  my  lef 
hand  what  I  chops  de  wood  wid." 

"  To  be  sure !  you  are  left-handed ;  and  your  left 
eye  is  on  the  same  side  as  your  left  hand.  Now,  I  sup 
pose,  you  can  find  the  left  eye  of  the  skull,  or  the  place 
where  the  left  eye  has  been.  Have  you  found  it  ?^" 

Here  was  a  long  pause.     At  length  the  negro  asked : 

"  Is  de  lef '  eye  of  de  skull  'pon  de  same  side  as  de  lef 
hand  of  de  skull  too  ?  'cause  de  skull  ain't  got  not  a  bit 
ob  a  hand  at  all ;  nebber  mind !  I  got  de  lef  eye  now, 
here  de  lef  eye !  what  mus'  do  wid  it  ?  " 

"  Let  the  beetle  drop  through  it,  as  far  as  the  string 
will  reach ;  but  be  careful  and  not  let  go  your  hold  of 
the  string." 

"  All  dat  done,  Massa  Will ;  mighty  easy  ting  for  to 
put  de  bug  fru  de  hole ;  look  out  for  him  dare  below!  " 

During  this  colloquy  no  portion  of  Jupiter's  person 
could  be  seen;  but  the  beetle,  which  he  had  suffered 
to  descend,  was  now  visible  at  the  end  of  the  string, 
and  glistened,  like  a  globe  of  burnished  gold,  in  the 
last  rays  of  the  setting  sun,  some  of  which  still  faintly 
illumined  the  eminence  upon  which  we  stood.  The 

137 


The   Gold-Bug 

scarabaeus  hung  quite  clear  of  any  branches,  and,  if 
allowed  to  fall,  would  have  fallen  at  our  feet.  Legrand 
immediately  took  the  scythe,  and  cleared  with  it  a 
circular  space,  three  or  four  yards  in  diameter,  just 
beneath  the  insect,  and,  having  accomplished  this, 
ordered  Jupiter  to  let  go  the  string  and  come  down 
from  the  tree. 

Driving  a  peg,  with  great  nicety,  into  the  ground,  at 
the  precise  spot  where  the  beetle  fell,  my  friend  now 
produced  from  his  pocket  a  tape-measure.  Fastening 
one  end  of  this  at  that  point  of  the  trunk  of  the  tree 
which  was  nearest  the  peg,  he  unrolled  it  till  it  reached 
the  peg,  and  thence  further  unrolled  it,  in  the  direction 
already  established  by  the  two  points  of  the  tree  and 
the  peg,  for  the  distance  of  fifty  feet,  Jupiter  clearing 
away  the  brambles  with  the  scythe.  At  the  spot  thus 
attained  a  second  peg  was  driven,  and  about  this,  as  a 
centre,  a  rude  circle,  about  four  feet  in  diameter, 
described.  Taking  now  a  spade  himself,  and  giving 
one  to  Jupiter  and  one  to  me,  Legrand  begged  us  to 
set  about  digging  as  quickly  as  possible. 

To  speak  the  truth,  I  had  no  especial  relish  for 
such  amusement  at  any  time,  and,  at  that  particular 
moment,  would  most  willingly  have  declined  it;  for 
the  night  was  coming  on,  and  I  felt  much  fatigued  with 
the  exercise  already  taken;  but  I  saw  no  mode  of 
escape,  and  was  fearful  of  disturbing  my  poor  friend's 
equanimity  by  a  refusal.  Could  I  have  depended,  in- 

138 


The   Gold-Bug 

deed,  upon  Jupiter's  aid,  I  would  have  had  no  hesitation 
in  attempting  to  get  the  lunatic  home  by  force ;  but  I 
was  too  well  assured  of  the  old  negro's  disposition  to 
hope  that  he  would  assist  me,  under  any  circumstances, 
in  a  personal  contest  with  his  master.  I  made  no 
doubt  that  the  latter  had  been  infected  with  some  of 
the  innumerable  Southern  superstitions  about  money 
buried,  and  that  his  fantasy  had  received  confirma 
tion  by  the  finding  of  the  scarabaeus,  or,  perhaps,  by 
Jupiter's  obstinacy  in  maintaining  it  to  be  "  a  bug  of 
real  gold."  A  mind  disposed  to  lunacy  would  readily 
be  led  away  by  such  suggestions ;  especially  if  chiming 
in  with  favorite  preconceived  ideas,  and  then  I  called 
to  mind  the  poor  fellow's  speech  about  the  beetle's 
being  "  the  index  of  his  fortune."  Upon  the  whole, 
I  was  sadly  vexed  and  puzzled,  but,  at  length,  I  con 
cluded  to  make  a  virtue  of  necessity;  to  dig  with  a 
good  will,  and  thus  the  sooner  to  convince  the  vision 
ary,  by  ocular  demonstration,  of  the  fallacy  of  the 
opinions  he  entertained. 

The  lanterns  having  been  lit,  we  all  fell  to  work  with 
a  zeal  worthy  a  more  rational  cause ;  and,  as  the  glare 
fell  upon  our  persons  and  implements,  I  could  not 
help  thinking  how  picturesque  a  group  we  composed, 
and  how  strange  and  suspicious  our  labors  must  have 
appeared  to  any  interloper  who,  by  chance,  might  have 
stumbled  upon  our  whereabouts. 

We  dug  very  steadily  for  two  hours.  Little  was 
'39 


The   Gold- Bug 

said ;  and  our  chief  embarrassment  lay  in  the  yelpings 
of  the  dog,  who  took  exceeding  interest  in  our  pro 
ceedings.  He  at  length  became  so  obstreperous  that 
we  grew  fearful  of  his  giving  the  alarm  to  some  strag 
glers  in  the  vicinity,  or,  rather,  this  was  the  appre 
hension  of  Legrand ;  for  myself,  I  should  have  rejoiced 
at  any  interruption  which  might  have  enabled  me  to 
get  the  wanderer  home  The  noise  was  at  length 
very  effectually  silenced  by  Jupiter,  who,  getting  out 
of  the  hole  with  a  dogged  air  of  deliberation,  tied  the 
brute's  mouth  up  with  one  of  his  suspenders,  and 
then  returned,  with  a  grave  chuckle,  to  his  task. 

When  the  time  mentioned  had  expired,  we  had 
reached  a  depth  of  five  feet,  and  yet  no  signs  of  any 
treasure  became  manifest.  A  general  pause  ensued, 
and  I  began  to  hope  that  the  farce  was  at  an  end. 
Legrand,  however,  although  evidently  much  discon 
certed,  wiped  his  brow  thoughtfully  and  recommenced. 
We  had  excavated  the  entire  circle  of  four  feet  diam 
eter,  and  now  we  slightly  enlarged  the  limit,  and 
went  to  the  farther  depth  of  two  feet.  Still  nothing 
appeared.  The  gold-seeker,  whom  I  sincerely  pitied, 
at  length  clambered  from  the  pit  with  the  bitterest 
disappointment  imprinted  upon  every  feature,  and 
proceeded,  slowly  and  reluctantly,  to  put  on  his  coat, 
which  he  had  thrown  off  at  the  beginning  of  his  labor. 
In  the  meantime  I  made  no  remark.  Jupiter,  at  a 
signal  from  his  master,  began  to  gather  up  his  tools. 

140 


The   Gold- Bug 

This  done,  and  the  dog  having  been  unmuzzled,  we 
turned  in  profound  silence  toward  home. 

We  had  taken,  perhaps,  a  dozen  steps  in  this 
direction,  when,  with  a  loud  oath,  Legrand  strode 
up  to  Jupiter,  and  seized  him  by  the  collar.  The 
astonished  negro  opened  his  eyes  and  mouth  to  the 
fullest  extent,  let  fall  the  spades,  and  fell  upon  his 
knees. 

"  You  scoundrel !  "  said  Legrand,  hissing  out  the 
syllables  from  between  his  clenched  teeth,  "  you  in 
fernal  black  villain!  speak,  I  tell  you!  answer  me 
this  instant,  without  prevarication!  which — which  is 
your  left  eye  ?  " 

"  Oh,  my  golly,  Massa  Will !  ain't  dis  here  my  lef '  eye 
for  sartain  ?  "  roared  the  terrified  Jupiter,  placing  his 
hand  upon  his  fight  organ  of  vision,  and  holding  it 
there  with  a  desperate  pertinacity,  as  if  in  immediate 
dread  of  his  master's  attempt  at  a  gouge. 

"  I  thought  so! — I  knew  it!  hurrah!  "  vociferated 
Legrand,  letting  the  negro  go  and  executing  a  series  of 
curvets  and  caracols,  much  to  the  astonishment  of  his 
valet,  who,  arising  from  his  knees,  looked,  mutely, 
from  his  master  to  myself,  and  then  from  myself 
to  his  master. 

"  Come!  we  must  go  back,"  said  the  latter;  "  the 
game  Js  not  up  yet  " ;  and  he  again  led  the  way  to  the 
tulip-tree. 

"  Jupiter,"  said  he,  when  we  reached  its  foot,  "  come 
141 


The   Gold-Bug 

here!  was  the  skull  nailed  to  the  limb  with  the  face 
outward,  or  with  the  face  to  the  limb  ?  " 

"  De  face  was  out,  massa,  so  dat  de  crows  could  get 
at  de  eyes  good,  widout  any  trouble." 

"  Well,  then,  was  it  this  eye  or  that  through  which 
you  dropped  the  beetle  ?  "  here  Legrand  touched  each 
of  Jupiter's  eyes. 

"  'T  was  dis  eye,  massa,  de  lef  eye,  jis  as  you  tell 
me,"  and  here  it  was  his  right  eye  that  the  negro 
indicated. 

"  That  will  do ;  we  must  try  it  again." 

Here  my  friend,  about  whose  madness  I  now  saw, 
or  fancied  that  I  saw,  certain  indications  of  method, 
removed  the  peg  which  marked  the  spot  where  the 
beetle  fell,  to  a  spot  about  three  inches  to  the  west 
ward  of  its  former  position.  Taking,  now,  the  tape 
measure  from  the  nearest  point  of  the  trunk  to  the 
peg,  as  before,  and  continuing  the  extension  in  a, 
straight  line  to  the  distance  of  fifty  feet,  a  spot  was 
indicated,  removed,  by  several  yards,  from  the  point 
at  which  we  had  been  digging. 

Around  the  new  position  a  circle,  somewhat  larger 
than  in  the  former  instance,  was  now  described,  and 
we  again  set  to  work  with  the  spade.  I  was  dread 
fully  weary,  but,  scarcely  understanding  what  had 
occasioned  the  change  in  my  thoughts,  I  felt  no  longer 
any  great  aversion  from  the  labor  imposed.  I  had 
become  most  unaccountably  interested,  nay,  even 

142 


The   Gold-Bug 

excited.  Perhaps  there  was  something,  amid  all  the 
extravagant  demeanor  of  Legrand,  some  air  of  fore 
thought  or  of  deliberation,  which  impressed  me.  I 
dug  eagerly,  and  now  and  then  caught  myself  actually 
looking,  with  something  that  very  much  resembled 
expectation,  for  the  fancied  treasure,  the  vision  of 
which  had  demented  my  unfortunate  companion. 
At  a  period  when  such  vagaries  of  thought  most  fully 
possessed  me,  and  when  we  had  been  at  work  per 
haps  an  hour  and  a  half,  we  were  again  interrupted 
by  the  violent  howlings  of  the  dog.  His  uneasiness, 
in  the  first  instance,  had  been  evidently  but  the  result 
of  playfulness  or  caprice,  but  he  now  assumed  a  bitter 
and  serious  tone.  Upon  Jupiter's  again  attempting 
to  muzzle  him,  he  made  furious  resistance,  and,  leaping 
into  the  hole,  tore  up  the  mould  frantically  with  his 
claws.  In  a  few  seconds  he  had  uncovered  a  mass 
of  human  bones,  forming  two  complete  skeletons,  in 
termingled  with  several  buttons  of  metal,  and  what 
appeared  to  be  the  dust  of  decayed  woollen.  One  or 
two  strokes  of  a  spade  upturned  the  blade  of  a  large 
Spanish  knife,  and,  as  we  dug  farther,  three  or  four 
loose  pieces  of  gold  and  silver  coin  came  to  light. 

At  sight  of  these  the  joy  of  Jupiter  could  scarcely 
be  restrained,  but  the  countenance  of  his  master  wore 
an  air  of  extreme  disappointment.  He  urged  us, 
however,  to  continue  our  exertions,  and  the  words 
were  hardly  uttered  when  I  stumbled  and  fell  forward, 


The   Gold-Bug 

having  caught  the  toe  of  my  boot  in  a  large  ring  of 
iron  that  lay  half  buried  in  the  loose  earth. 

We  now  worked  in  earnest,  and  never  did  I  pass  ten 
minutes  of  more  intense  excitement.  During  this  in 
terval  we  had  fairly  unearthed  an  oblong  chest  of 
wood,  which,  from  its  perfect  preservation  and  won 
derful  hardness,  had  plainly  been  subjected  to  some 
mineralizing  process — perhaps  that  of  the  bichloride 
of  mercury.  This  box  was  three  feet  and  a  half  long, 
three  feet  broad,  and  two  and  a  half  feet  deep.  It 
was  firmly  secured  by  bands  of  wrought  iron,  riveted, 
and  forming  a  kind  of  open  trelliswork  over  the 
whole.  On  each  side  of  the  chest,  near  the  top, 
were  three  rings  of  iron,  six  in  all,  by  means  of 
which  a  firm  hold  could  be  obtained  by  six  persons. 
Our  utmost  united  endeavors  served  only  to  dis 
turb  the  coffer  very  slightly  in  its  bed.  We  at  once 
saw  the  impossibility  of  removing  so  great  a  weight. 
Luckily,  the  sole  fastenings  of  the  lid  consisted  of 
two  sliding  bolts.  These  we  drew  back,  trembling 
and  panting  with  anxiety.  In  an  instant,  a  treasure 
of  incalculable  value  lay  gleaming  before  us.  As 
the  rays  of  the  lanterns  fell  within  the  pit,  there 
flashed  upward  a  glow  and  a  glare  from  a  confused 
heap  of  gold  and  of  jewels  that  absolutely  dazzled 
our  eyes. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the  feelings  with 
which  I  gazed.  Amazement  was,  of  course,  predom- 

144 


The   Gold-Bug 

inant.  Legrand  appeared  exhausted  with  excitement, 
and  spoke  very  few  words.,  Jupiter's  countenance 
wore,  for  some  minutes,  as  deadly  a  pallor  as  it 
is  possible,  in  the  nature  of  things,  for  any  negro's 
visage  to  assume.  He  seemed  stupefied,  thunder- 
stricken.  Presently  he  fell  upon  his  knees  in  the  pit, 
and,  burying  his  naked  arms  up  to  the  elbows  in  gold, 
let  them  there  remain,  as  if  enjoying  the  luxury  of  a 
bath.  At  length,  with  a  deep  sigh,  he  exclaimed,  as  if 
in  a  soliloquy: 

"  And  dis  all  cum  ob  de  goole-bug!  de  putty  goole- 
bug!  de  poor  little  goole-bug,  what  I  boosed  in  dat 
sabage  kind  ob  style  !  Ain't  you  'shamed  ob  yourself, 
digger  ?  answer  me  dat  !  " 

It  became  necessary,  at  last,  that  I  should  arouse 
both  master  and  valet  to  the  expediency  of  removing 
the  treasure.  It  was  growing  late,  and  it  behooved 
us  to  make  exertion  that  we  might  get  everything 
housed  before  daylight.  It  was  difficult  to  say  what 
should  be  done,  and  much  time  was  spent  in  delibera 
tion,  so  confused  were  the  ideas  of  all.  We  finally 
lightened  the  box  by  removing  two  thirds  of  its  con 
tents,  when  we  were  enabled,  with  some  trouble,  to 
raise  it  from  the  hole.  The  articles  taken  out  were 
deposited  among  the  brambles,  and  the  dog  left  to 
guard  them,  with  strict  orders  from  Jupiter  neither, 
upon  any  pretence,  to  stir  from  the  spot,  nor  to  open 
his  mouth  until  our  return.  We  then  hurriedly  made 


VOL.  V.—  10, 


The   Gold- Bug 

for  home  with  the  chest;  reaching  the  hut  in  safety, 
but  after  excessive  toil,  at  one  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
Worn  out  as  we  were,  it  was  not  in  human  nature 
to  do  more  immediately.  We  rested  until  two,  and 
had  supper,  starting  for  the  hills  immediately  after- 
ward,  armed  with  three  stout  sacks,  which,  by  good 
luck,  were  upon  the  premises.  A  little  before  four  we 
arrived  at  the  pit,  divided  the  remainder  of  the  booty, 
as  equally  as  might  be,  among  us,  and,  leaving  the 
holes  unfilled,  again  set  out  for  the  hut,  at  which,  for 
the  second  time,  we  deposited  our  golden  burdens, 
just  as  the  first  faint  streaks  of  the  dawn  gleamed  from 
over  the  tree-tops  in  the  east. 

We  were  now  thoroughly  broken  down;  but  the 
intense  excitement  of  the  time  denied  us  repose. 
After  an  unquiet  slumber  of  some  three  or  four  hours' 
duration,  we  arose,  as  if  by  preconcert,  to  make  ex 
amination  of  our  treasure. 

The  chest  had  been  full  to  the  brim,  and  we  spent 
the  whole  day,  and  the  greater  part  of  the  next  night, 
in  a  scrutiny  of  its  contents.  There  had  been  nothing 
like  order  or  arrangement.  Everything  had  been 
heaped  in  promiscuously.  Having  assorted  all  with 
care,  we  found  ourselves  possessed  of  even  vaster 
wealth  than  we  had  at  first  supposed.  In  coin  there 
was  rather  more  than  four  hundred  and  fifty  thousand 
dollars,  estimating  the  value  of  the  pieces,  as  accurately 
as  we  could,  by  the  tables  of  the  period.  There  was 

146 


The   Gold-Bug 

not  a  particle  of  silver.  All  was  gold  of  antique  date 
and  of  great  variety:  French,  Spanish,  and  German 
money,  with  a  few  English  guineas,  and  some  counters, 
of  which  we  had  never  seen  specimens  before.  There 
were  several  very  large  and  heavy  coins,  so  worn 
that  we  could  make  nothing  of  their  inscriptions. 
There  was  no  American  money.  The  value  of  the 
jewels  we  found  more  difficulty  in  estimating.  There 
were  diamonds,  some  of  them  exceedingly  large  and 
fine,  a  hundred  and  ten  in  all,  and  not  one  of  them 
small ;  eighteen  rubies  of  remarkable  brilliancy ;  three 
hundred  and  ten  emeralds,  all  very  beautiful;  and 
twenty-one  sapphires,  with  an  opal.  These  stones  had 
all  been  broken  from  their  settings  and  thrown  loose 
in  the  chest.  The  settings  themselves,  which  we 
picked  out  from  among  the  other  gold,  appeared  to 
have  been  beaten  up  with  hammers,  as  if  to  prevent 
identification.  Besides  all  this,  there  was  a  vast 
quantity  of  solid  gold  ornaments:  nearly  two  hun 
dred  massive  finger  and  earrings;  rich  chains — thirty 
of  these,  if  I  remember;  eighty-three  very  large  and 
heavy  crucifixes;  five  gold  censers  of  great  value;  a 
prodigious  golden  punch-bowl,  ornamented  with  richly 
chased  vine-leaves  and  Bacchanalian  figures;  with 
two  sword-handles  exquisitely  embossed,  and  many 
other  smaller  articles  which  I  cannot  recollect.  The 
weight  of  these  valuables  exceeded  three  hundred  and 
fifty  pounds  avoirdupois;  and  in  this  estimate  I  have 


The   Gold-Bug 

not  included  one  hundred  and  ninety-seven  superb 
gold  watches;  three  of  the  number  being  worth  each 
five  hundred  dollars,  if  one.  Many  of  them  were  very 
old,  and  as  timekeepers  valueless,  the  works  having 
suffered  more  or  less  from  corrosion,  but  all  were 
richly  jewelled  and  in  cases  of  great  worth.  We  esti 
mated  the  entire  contents  of  the  chest,  that  night,  at  a 
million  and  a  half  of  dollars ;  and  upon  the  subsequent 
disposal  of  the  trinkets  and  jewels  (a  few  being  re 
tained  for  our  own  use),  it  was  found  that  we  had 
greatly  undervalued  the  treasure. 

When,  at  length,  we  had  concluded  our  examina 
tion,  and  the  intense  excitement  of  the  time  had,  in 
some  measure,  subsided,  Legrand,  who  saw  that  I  was 
dying  with  impatience  for  a  solution  of  this  most  ex 
traordinary  riddle,  entered  into  a  full  detail  of  all  the 
circumstances  connected  with  it. 

"  You  remember,"  said  he,  "  the  night  when  I 
handed  you  the  rough  sketch  I  had  made  of  the 
scarabaeus.  You  recollect,  also,  that  I  became  quite 
vexed  at  you  for  insisting  that  my  drawing  resembled 
a  death's-head.  When  you  first  made  this  assertion 
I  thought  you  were  jesting;  but  afterward  I  called  to 
mind  the  peculiar  spots  on  the  back  of  the  insect, 
and  admitted  to  myself  that  your  remark  had  some 
little  foundation  in  fact.  Still,  the  sneer  at  my  graphic 
powers  irritated  me,  for  I  am  considered  a  good  artist, 
and  therefore,  when  you  handed  me  the  scrap  of 

148 


The   Gold-Bug 

parchment,  I  was  about  to  crumple  it  up  and  throw  it 
angrily  into  the  fire." 

"  The  scrap  of  paper,  you  mean  ?  "  said  I. 

"  No ;  it  had  much  of  the  appearance  of  paper,  and 
at  first  I  supposed  it  to  be  such,  but  when  I  came  to 
draw  upon  it,  I  discovered  it  at  once  to  be  a  piece  of 
very  thin  parchment.  It  w'as  quite  dirty,  you  remem 
ber.  Well,  as  I  was  in  the  very  act  of  crumpling  it 
up,  my  glance  fell  upon  the  sketch  at  which  you  had 
been  looking,  and  you  may  imagine  my  astonish 
ment  when  I  perceived,  in  fact,  the  figure  of  a  death's- 
head  just  where,  it  seemed  to  me,  I  had  made  the  draw 
ing  of  the  beetle.  For  a  moment  I  was  too  much 
amazed  to  think  with  accuracy.  I  knew  that  my  design 
was  very  different  in  detail  from  this,  although  there 
was  a  certain  similarity  in  general  outline.  Presently 
I  took  a  candle,  and,  seating  myself  at  the  other  end 
of  the  room,  proceeded  to  scrutinize  the  parchment 
more  closely.  Upon  turning  it  over,  I  saw  my  own 
sketch  upon  the  reverse,  just  as  I  had  made  it.  My 
first  idea,  now,  was  mere  surprise  at  the  really  re 
markable  similarity  of  outline;  at  the  singular  coin 
cidence  involved  in  the  fact,  that,  unknown  to  me, 
there  should  have  been  a  skull  upon  the  other  side 
of  the  parchment,  immediately  beneath  my  figure  of 
the  scarabaeus,  and  that  this  skull,  not  only  in  out 
line,  but  in  size,  should  so  closely  resemble  my 
drawing.  I  say  the  singularity  of  this  coincidence 

149 


The   Gold-Bug 

absolutely  stupefied  me  for  a  time.  This  is  the  usual 
effect  of  such  coincidences.  The  mind  struggles  to 
establish  a  connection,  a  sequence  of  cause  and 
effect,  and,  being  unable  to  do  so,  suffers  a  species  of 
temporary  paralysis.  But  when  I  recovered  from 
this  stupor  there  dawned  upon  me  gradually  a  con 
viction  which  startled  me  even  far  more  than  the 
coincidence.  I  began  distinctly,  positively,  to  remem 
ber  that  there  had  been  no  drawing  upon  the  parch 
ment  when  I  made  my  sketch  of  the  scarabaeus.  I 
became  perfectly  certain  of  this ;  for  I  recollected  turn 
ing  up  first  one  side  and  then  the  other,  in  search  of 
the  cleanest  spot.  Had  the  skull  been  there,  of  course 
I  could  not  have  failed  to  notice  it.  Here  was  indeed 
a  mystery  which  I  felt  it  impossible  to  explain;  but 
even  at  that  early  moment  there  seemed  to  glimmer 
faintly,  within  the  most  remote  and  secret  chambers  of 
my  intellect,  a  glow-worm-like  conception  of  that 
truth  which  last  night's  adventure  brought  to  so 
magnificent  a  demonstration.  I  arose  at  once,  and, 
putting  the  parchment  securely  away,  dismissed  all 
further  reflection  until  I  should  be  alone. 

"  When  you  had  gone,  and  when  Jupiter  was  fast 
asleep,  I  betook  myself  to  a  more  methodical  investi 
gation  of  the  affair.  In  the  first  place  I  considered 
the  manner  in  which  the  parchment  had  come  into  my 
possession.  The  spot  where  we  discovered  the  scara 
baeus  was  on  the  coast  of  the  mainland,  about  a  mile 

150 


The   Gold-Bug 

eastward  of  the  island,  and  but  a  short  distance  above 
high-water  mark.  Upon  my  taking  hold  of  it,  it  gave 
me  a  sharp  bite,  which  caused  me  to  let  it  drop0 
Jupiter,  with  his  accustomed  caution,  before  seizing 
the  insect,  which  had  flown  toward  him,  looked  about 
him  for  a  leaf,  or  something  of  that  nature,  by  which 
to  take  hold  of  it.  It  was  at  this  moment  that  his 
eyes,  and  mine  also,  fell  upon  the  scrap  of  parchment, 
which  I  then  supposed  to  be  paper.  It  was  lying 
half  buried  in  the  sand,  a  corner  sticking  up.  Near 
the  spot  where  we  found  it,  I  observed  the  remnants 
of  the  hull  of  what  appeared  to  have  been  a  ship's 
long-boat.  The  wreck  seemed  to  have  been  there  for 
a  very  great  while ;  for  the  resemblance  to  boat  timbers 
could  scarcely  be  traced. 

"  Well,  Jupiter  picked  up  the  parchment,  wrapped 
the  beetle  in  it,  and  gave  it  to  me.  Soon  afterward 
we  turned  to  go  home,  and  on  the  way  met  Lieutenant 

G .     I  showed  him  the  insect,  and  he  begged  me 

to  let  him  take  it  to  the  fort.  Upon  my  consenting, 
he  thrust  it  forthwith  into  his  waistcoat  pocket,  with 
out  the  parchment  in  which  it  had  been  wrapped,  and 
which  I  had  continued  to  hold  in  my  hand  during  his 
inspection.  Perhaps  he  dreaded  my  changing  my 
mind,  and  thought  it  best  to  make  sure  of  the 
prize  at  once;  you  know  how  enthusiastic  he  is 
on  all  subjects  connected  with  natural  history. 
At  the  same  time,  without  being  conscious  of  it, 


The   Gold-Bug 

I  must  have  deposited  the  parchment  in  my  own 
pocket. 

"  You  remember  that  when  I  went  to  the  table,  for 
the  purpose  of  making  a  sketch  of  the  beetle,  I  found 
no  paper  where  it  was  usually  kept.  I  looked  in  the 
drawer,  and  found  none  there.  I  searched  my  pockets, 
hoping  to  find  an  old  letter,  when  my  hand  fell  upon 
the  parchment.  I  thus  detail  the  precise  mode  in 
which  it  came  into  my  possession;  for  the  circum 
stances  impressed  me  with  peculiar  force. 

"  No  doubt  you  will  think  me  fanciful,  but  I  had 
already  established  a  kind  of  connection.  I  had  put 
together  two  links  of  a  great  chain.  There  was  a  boat 
lying  upon  a  seacoast,  and  not  far  from  the  boat 
was  a  parchment,  not  a  paper,  with  a  skull  depicted 
upon  it.  You  will,  of  course,  ask,  *  Where  is  the  con 
nection  ?  J  I  reply  that  the  skull,  or  death's-head,  is 
the  well-known  emblem  of  the  pirate.  The  flag  of 
the  death's-head  is  hoisted  in  all  engagements. 

"  I  have  said  that  the  scrap  was  parchment,  and  not 
paper.  Parchment  is  durable,  almost  imperishable. 
Matters  of  little  moment  are  rarely  consigned  to  parch 
ment  ;  since,  for  the  mere  ordinary  purposes  of  draw 
ing  or  writing,  it  is  not  nearly  so  well  adapted  as 
paper.  This  reflection  suggested  some  meaning,  some 
relevancy,  in  the  death's-head.  I  did  not  fail  to 
observe,  also,  the  form  of  the  parchment.  Although 
one  of  its  corners  had  been,  by  some  accident,  de- 


The   Gold-Bug 

stroyed,  it  could  be  seen  that  the  original  form  was 
oblong.  It  was  just  such  a  slip,  indeed,  as  might 
have  been  chosen  for  a  memorandum;  for  a  record 
of  something  to  be  long  remembered  and  carefully 
preserved." 

"  But,"  I  interposed,  "  you  say  that  the  skull  was 
not  upon  the  parchment  when  you  made  the  drawing 
of  the  beetle.  How,  then,  do  you  trace  any  connection 
between  the  boat  and  the  skull,  since  this  latter, 
according  to  your  own  admission,  must  have  been 
designed  (God  only  knows  how  or  by  whom)  at  some 
period  subsequent  to  your  sketching  the  scarabaeus  ?  " 

"  Ah,  hereupon  turns  the  whole  mystery;  although 
the  secret,  at  this  point,  I  had  comparatively  little 
difficulty  in  solving.  My  steps  were  sure,  and  could 
afford  but  a  single  result.  I  reasoned,  for  example, 
thus :  When  I  drew  the  scarabaeus,  there  was  no  skull 
apparent  upon  the  parchment.  When  I  had  con- 
pleted  the  drawing  I  gave  it  to  you,  and  observed  you 
narrowly  until  you  returned  it.  You,  therefore,  did 
not  design  the  skull,  and  no  one  else  was  present  to 
do  it.  Then  it  was  not  done  by  human  agency.  And 
nevertheless  it  was  done. 

"  At  this  stage  of  my  reflections  I  endeavored  to 
remember,  and  did  remember,  with  entire  distinctness, 
every  incident  which  occurred  about  the  period  in 
question.  The  weather  was  chilly  (oh,  rare  and 
happy  accident!),  and  a  fire  was  blazing  upon  the 


The   Gold- Bug 

hearth.  I  was  heated  with  exercise  and  sat  near  the 
table.  You,  however,  had  drawn  a  chair  close  to 
the  chimney.  Just  as  I  placed  the  parchment  in  your 
hand,  and  as  you  were  in  the  act  of  inspecting  it, 
Wolf,  the  Newfoundland,  entered,  and  leaped  upon 
your  shoulders.  With  your  left  hand  you  caressed 
him  and  kept  him  off,  while  your'  right,  holding  the 
parchment,  was  permitted  to  fall  listlessly  between  your 
knees,  and  in  close  proximity  to  the  fire.  At  one 
moment  I  thought  the  blaze  had  caught  it,  and  was 
about  to  caution  you,  but,  before  I  could  speak,  you 
had  withdrawn  it,  and  were  engaged  in  its  examina 
tion.  When  I  considered  all  these  particulars,  I 
doubted  not  for  a  moment  that  heat  had  been  the 
agent  in  bringing  to  light,  upon  the  parchment,  the 
skull  which  I  saw  designed  upon  it.  You  are  well 
aware  that  chemical  preparations  exist,  and  have 
existed  time  out  of  mind,  by  means  of  which  it  is 
possible  to  write  upon  either  paper  or  vellum,  so  that 
the  characters  shall  become  visible  only  when  sub 
jected  to  the  action  of  fire.  Zaffre,  digested  in  aqua 
regiaf  and  diluted  with  four  times  its  weight  of  water, 
is  sometimes  employed;  a  green  tint  results.  The 
regulus  of  cobalt,  dissolved  in  spirit  of  nitre,  gives  a 
red.  These  colors  disappear  at  longer  or  shorter  in 
tervals  after  the  material  written  upon  cools,  but  again 
become  apparent  upon  the  reapplication  of  heat. 
"  I  now  scrutinized  the  death's-head  with  care.  Its 


The   Gold-Bug 

outer  edges,  the  edges  of  the  drawing  nearest  the  edge 
of  the  vellum,  were  far  more  distinct  than  the  others. 
It  was  clear  that  the  action  of  the  caloric  had  been 
imperfect  or  unequal.  I  immediately  kindled  a  fire, 
and  subjected  every  portion  of  the  parchment  to  a 
glowing  heat.  At  first,  the  only  effect  was  the 
strengthening  of  the  faint  lines  in  the  skull ;  but,  upon 
persevering  in  the  experiment,  there  became  visible, 
at  the  corner  of  the  slip,  diagonally  opposite  to  the 
spot  in  which  the  death's-head  was  delineated,  the 
figure  of  what  I  at  first  supposed  to  be  a  goat.  A 
closer  scrutiny,  however,  satisfied  me  that  it  was 
intended  for  a  kid." 

"  Ha!  ha!  "  said  I,  "  to  be  sure  I  have  no  right  to 
laugh  at  you, — a  million  and  a  half  of  money  is  too 
serious  a  matter  for  mirth, — but  you  are  not  about  to 
establish  a  third  link  in  your  chain,  you  will  not  find 
any  especial  connection  between  your  pirates  and  a 
goat;  pirates,  you  know,  have  nothing  to  do  with 
goats;  they  appertain  to  the  farming  interest." 

"  But  I  have  said  that  the  figure  was  not  that  of  a 
goat." 

"  Well,  a  kid  then — pretty  much  the  same  thing." 

"  Pretty  much,  but  not  altogether,"  said  Legrand. 
"  You  may  have  heard  of  one  Captain  Kidd.  I  at 
once  looked  upon  the  figure  of  the  animal  as  a  kind 
of  punning  or  hieroglyphical  signature.  I  say  signa 
ture,  because  its  position  upon  the  vellum  suggested 

'55 


The   Gold-Bug 

this  idea.  The  death's-head  at  the  corner  diagonally 
opposite,  had,  in  the  same  manner,  the  air  of  a  stamp, 
or  seal.  But  I  was  sorely  put  out  by  the  absence  of 
all  else — of  the  body  to  my  imagined  instrument,  of 
the  text  for  my  context." 

"  I  presume  you  expected  to  find  a  letter  between 
the  stamp  and  the  signature." 

"  Something  of  that  kind.  The  fact  is,  I  felt  irre 
sistibly  impressed  with  a  presentiment  of  some  vast 
good  fortune  impending.  I  can  scarcely  say  why. 
Perhaps,  after  all,  it  was  rather  a  desire  than  an  actual 
belief;  but  do  you  know  that  Jupiter's  silly  words, 
about  the  bug  being  of  solid  gold,  had  a  remarkable 

effect  upon  my  fancy  ?     And  then  the  series  of  acci- 

. 

dents  and  coincidences — these  were  so  very  extraor 
dinary.  Do  you  observe  how  mere  an  accident  it 
was  that  these  events  should  have  occurred  upon  the 
sole  day  of  all  the  year  in  which  it  has  been,  or  may 
be  sufficiently  cool  for  fire,  and  that  without  the  fire, 
or  without  the  intervention  of  the  dog  at  the  precise 
moment  in  which  he  appeared,  I  should  never  have 
become  aware  of  the  death's-head,  and  so  never  the 
possessor  of  the  treasure  ?  " 

"  But  proceed ;  I  am  all  impatience." 

"  Well;  you  have  heard,  of  course,  the  many  stories 
current,  the  thousand  vague  rumors  afloat  about 
money  buried  somewhere  upon  the  Atlantic  coast  by 
Kidd  and  his  associates.  These  rumors  must  have  had 

156 


The   Gold-Bug 

some  foundation  in  fact.  And  that  the  rumors  have 
existed  so  long  and  so  continuously,  could  have  resulted, 
it  appeared  to  me,  only  from  the  circumstance  of  the 
buried  treasure  still  remaining  entombed.  Had  Kidd 
concealed  his  plunder  for  a  time,  and  afterward  re 
claimed  it,  the  rumors  would  scarcely  have  reached 
us  in  their  present  unvarying  form.  You  will  observe 
that  the  stories  told  are  all  about  money-seekers,  not 
about  money-finders.  Had  the  pirate  recovered  •  his 
money,  there  the  affair  would  have  dropped.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  some  accident,  say  the  loss  of  a 
memorandum  indicating  its  locality,  had  deprived  him 
of  the  means  of  recovering  it,  and  that  this  accident 
had  become  known  to  his  followers,  who  otherwise 
might  never  have  heard  that  treasure  had  been  con 
cealed  at  all,  and  who,  busying  themselves  in  vain,  be 
cause  unguided,  attempts  to  regain  it,  had  given  first 
birth,  and  then  universal  currency,  to  the  reports  which 
are  now  so  common.  Have  you  ever  heard  of  any  im 
portant  treasure  being  unearthed  along  the  coast  ?  " 

"  Never." 

"  But  that  Kidd's  accumulations  were  immense,  is 
well  known.  I  took  it  for  granted,  therefore,  that 
the  earth  still  held  them;  and  you  will  scarcely  be 
surprised  when  I  tell  you  that  I  felt  a  hope,  nearly 
amounting  to  certainty,  that  the  parchment  so 
strangely  found  involved  a  lost  record  of  the  place  of 
deposit." 

157 


The   Gold-  Bug 

"  But  how  did  you  proceed  ?  " 

"  I  held  the  vellum  again  to  the  fire,  after  increasing 
the  heat,  but  nothing  appeared.  I  now  thought  it 
possible  that  the  coating  of  dirt  might  have  something 
to  do  with  the  failure  :  so  I  carefully  rinsed  the  parch 
ment  by  pouring  warm  water  over  it,  and,  having 
done  this,  I  placed  it  in  a  tin  pan,  with  the  skull  down 
wards,  and  put  the  pan  upon  a  furnace  of  lighted  char 
coal.  In  a  few  minutes,  the  pan  having  become 
thoroughly  heated,  I  removed  the  slip,  and,  to  my  in 
expressible  joy,  found  it  spotted,  in  several  places, 
with  what  appeared  to  be  figures  arranged  in  lines. 
Again  I  placed  it  in  the  pan,  and  suffered  it  to  remain 
another  minute.  Upon  taking  it  off,  the  whole  was 
just  as  you  see  it  now." 

Here  Legrand,  having  reheated  the  parchment,  sub 
mitted  it  to  my  inspection.  The  following  characters 
were  rudely  traced,  in  a  red  tint,  between  the  death's- 
head  and  the  goat  : 

"  53  1  it  305)  )  6*  54826)  4  1.)  4  1)  ;8o6*  ;48t  8fi6o)  )  85  ;i  i  (  ;  :  t  *8f 
83(88)  5^546(588*96*?;  8)^(5485)  55*t2:*J(54956*2(5*—  4) 
8<[8*  54069285)  ;)  6f8)  4t  t  ;i  (t9  ;48o8i  ;8  :8  1 
806*81  (t9548;(88;4(t?34J48)4i;i6i  5:188  ;J?;» 


"  But,"  said  I,  returning  him  the  slip,  "  I  am  as 
much  in  the  dark  as  ever.  Were  all  the  jewels  of 
Golconda  awaiting  me  upon  my  solution  of  this  enigma, 
I  am  quite  sure  that  I  should  be  unable  to  earn  them." 

158 


The   Gold-Bug 

"  And  yet,"  said  Legrand,  "  the  solution  is  by  no 
means  so  difficult  as  you  might  be  led  to  imagine  from 
the  first  hasty  inspection  of  the  characters.  These 
characters,  as  any  one  might  readily  guess,  form  a 
cipher ;  that  is  to  say,  they  convey  a  meaning ;  but  then 
from  what  is  known  of  Kidd  I  could  not  suppose  him 
capable  of  constructing  any  of  the  more  abstruse 
cryptographs.  I  made  up  my  mind,  at  once,  that 
this  was  of  a  simple  species,  such,  however,  as  would 
appear,  to  the  crude  intellect  of  the  sailor,  absolutely 
insoluble  without  the  key." 

"  And  you  really  solved  it  ?  " 

"  Readily ;  I  have  solved  others  of  an  abstruseness 
ten  thousand  times  greater.  Circumstances,  and  a 
certain  bias  of  mind,  have  led  me  to  take  interest  in 
such  riddles,  and  it  may  well  be  doubted  whether 
human  ingenuity  can  construct  an  enigma  of  the  kind 
which  human  ingenuity  may  not,  by  proper  applica 
tion,  resolve.  In  fact,  having  once  established  con 
nected  and  legible  characters,  I  scarcely  gave  a  thought 
to  the  mere  difficulty  of  developing  their  import. 

"  In  the  present  case,  indeed  in  all  cases  of  secret 
writing,  the  first  question  regards  the  language  of  the 
cipher;  for  the  principles  of  solution,  so  far,  especially, 
as  the  more  simple  ciphers  are  concerned,  depend  upon, 
and  are  varied  by,  the  genius  of  the  particular  idiom. 
In  general,  there  is  no  alternative  but  experiment 
(directed  by  probabilities)  of  every  tongue  known  to 

'59 


The   Gold-Bug 

him  who  attempts  the  solution,  until  the  true  one  be 
attained.  But,  with  the  cipher  now  before  us,  all 
difficulty  is  removed  by  the  signature.  The  pun 
upon  the  word  l  Kidd  '  is  appreciable  in  no  other  lan 
guage  than  the  English.  But  for  this  consideration  I 
should  have  begun  my  attempts  with  the  Spanish  and 
French,  as  the  tongues  in  which  a  secret  of  this  kind 
would  most  naturally  have  been  written  by  a  pirate  of 
the  Spanish  main.  As  it  was,  I  assumed  the  crypto 
graph  to  be  English. 

"  You  observe  there  are  no  divisions  between  the 
words.  Had  there  been  divisions  the  task  would  have 
been  comparatively  easy.  In  such  cases  I  should 
have  commenced  with  a  collation  and  analysis  of  the 
shorter  words,  and,  had  a  word  of  a  single  letter 
occurred,  as  is  most  likely  (a  or  I,  for  example),  I 
should  have  considered  the  solution  as  assured.  But, 
there  being  no  division,  my  first  step  was  to  ascertain 
the  predominant  letters  as  well  as  the  least  frequent. 
Counting  all,  I  constructed  a  table  thus : 

Of  the  character  8  there  are  33. 
"       26. 

4  "       iQ. 
t)  "       16- 

*  "  13. 

5  "  12. 

6  "  ii. 
fi  "  80 

1 60 


The   Gold-Bug 

Of  the  character  o  there  are  6. 

92  "5. 

:3          "       4- 

?          "       3- 

IT         "      2. 

—  .        "     I. 

"  Now,  in  English,  the  letter  which  most  frequently 
occurs  is  e.  Afterward,  the  succession  runs  thus: 
aoidhnrstuycfglm  w  b  k  p  q  xz,  E  predom 
inates  so  remarkably  that  an  individual  sentence  of 
any  length  is  rarely  seen  in  which  it  is  not  the  pre 
vailing  character. 

"  Here,  then,  we  have,  in  the  very  beginning,  the 
groundwork  for  something  more  than  a  mere  guess. 
The  general  use  which  may  be  made  of  the  table  is 
obvious;  but,  in  this  particular  cipher,  we  shall  only 
very  partially  require  its  aid.  As  our  predominant 
character  is  8,  we  will  commence  by  assuming  it  as 
the  e  of  the  natural  alphabet.  To  verify  the  supposi 
tion,  let  us  observe  if  the  8  be  seen  often  in  couples,  — 
for  e  is  doubled  with  great  frequency  in  English,  —  in 
such  words,  for  example,  as  *  meet,'  '  fleet,'  *  speed,' 
'  seen,'  *  been,'  *  agree,'  etc.  In  the  present  instance 
we  see  it  doubled  no  less  than  five  times,  although  the 
cryptograph  is  brief. 

"  Let  us  assume  8,  then,  as  e,  Now,  of  all  words  in 
the  language,  *  the  '  is  most  usual  ;  let  us  see,  there 
fore,  whether  there  are  not  repetitions  of  any  three 


VOL.V.-II, 


The   Gold-Bug 

characters  in  the  same  order  of  collocation,  the  last 
of  them  being  8.  If  we  discover  repetitions  of  such 
letters,  so  arranged,  they  will  most  probably  represent 
the  word  c  the.'  Upon  inspection  we  find  no  less  than 
seven  such  arrangements,  the  characters  being  548, 
We  may,  therefore,  assume  that  ;  represents  f,  4  rep 
resents  h,  and  8  represents  e — the  last  being  now  well 
confirmed.  Thus  a  great  step  has  been  taken. 

"  But,  having  established  a  single  word,  we  are 
enabled  to  establish  a  vastly  important  point;  that  is 
to  say,  several  commencements  and  terminations  of 
other  words.  Let  us  refer,  for  example,  to  the  last 
instance  but  one,  in  which  the  combination  548  occurs, 
not  far  from  the  end  of  the  cipher.  We  know  that 
the;  immediately  ensuing  is  the  commencement  of  a 
word,  and,  of  the  six  characters  succeeding  this  '  the,' 
we  are  cognizant  of  no  less  than  five.  Let  us  set  these 
characters  down,  thus,  by  the  letters  we  know  them 
to  represent,  leaving  a  space  for  the  unknown — 

t  eeth. 

"  Here  we  are  enabled,  at  once,  to  discard  the  th, 
as  forming  no  portion  of  the  word  commencing  with 
the  first  f,  since,  by  experiment  of  the  entire  alphabet 
for  a  letter  adapted  to  the  vacancy,  we  perceive  that 
no  word  can  be  formed  of  which  this  th  can  be  a  part 
We  are  thus  narrowed  into 

tee, 
162 


The   Gold-Bug 

and,  going  through  the  alphabet,  if  necessary,  as 
before,  we  arrive  at  the  word  *  tree,'  as  the  sole  pos 
sible  reading.  We  thus  gain  another  letter,  r,  repre 
sented  by  (,  with  the  words  '  the  tree  J  in  juxtaposition. 
"  Looking  beyond  these  words,  for  a  short  distance, 
we  again  see  the  combination  548,  and  employ  it  by 
way  of  termination  to  what  immediately  precedes. 
We  have  thus  this  arrangement : 

the  tree  ;4(t?34  the, 

or,  substituting  the  natural  letters,  where  known,  it 
reads  thus : 

the  tree  thr{?3h  the. 

"  Now,  if,  in  place  of  the  unknown  characters,  we 
leave  blank  spaces  or  substitute  dots,  we  read  thus : 

the  tree  thr...h  the, 

when  the  word  '  through  '  makes  itself  evident  at  once. 
But  this  discovery  gives  us  three  new  letters,  o,  u,  and 
g,  represented  by  t,  ?,  and  3. 

"  Looking  now,  narrowly,  through  the  cipher  for 
combinations  of  known  characters,  we  find,  not  very 
far  from  the  beginning,  this  arrangement, 

83(88,  or  egree, 

which,  plainly,  is  the  conclusion  of  the  word  '  degree,' 
and  gives  us  another  letter,  d,  represented  by  f. 

"  Four  letters  beyond  the  word  '  degree,'  we  per 
ceive  the  combination 

16* 


The   Gold-Bug 

;46(:88* 

"  Translating  the  known  characters,  and  represent 
ing  the  unknown  by  dots,  as  before,  we  read  thus : 

th.rtee. 

an  arrangement  immediately  suggestive  of  the  word 
*  thirteen,'  and  again  furnishing  us  with  two  new 
characters,  /  and  n,  represented  by  6  and  *. 

"  Referring,  now,  to  the  beginning  of  the  crypto 
graph,  we  find  the  combination, 

53ttt-   ' 
"  Translating  as  before,  we  obtain 

.good, 

which  assures  us  that  the  first  letter  is  A,  and  that  the 

i 

first  two  words  are  *  A  good.' 

"  It  is  now  time  that  we  arrange  our  key,  as  far  as 
discovered,  in  a  tabular  form,  to  avoid  confusion.  It 
will  stand  thus : 

5  represents  a 


t 

d 

8 

"        e 

3 

"        g 

4 

"  .      h 

6 

"        i 

* 

n 

$ 

"           0 

( 

jt 

; 

"        t 

J 

"          0 

164 


The   Gold-Bug 

"  We  have,  therefore,  no  less  than  eleven  of  the 
most  important  letters  represented,  and  it  will  be  un 
necessary  to  proceed  with  the  details  of  the  solution. 

I  have  said  enough  to  convince  you  that  ciphers  of  this 
nature  are  readily  soluble,  and  to  give  you  some  in 
sight  into  the  rationale  of  their  development.  But  be 
assured  that  the  specimen  before  us  appertains  to  the 
very  simplest  species  of  cryptograph.  It  now  only  re 
mains  to  give  you  the  full  translation  of  the  characters 
upon  the  parchment  as  unriddled.  Here  it  is : 

"  '  A  good  glass  in  the  bishop^  hostel  in  the  devil's  seat 
forty-one  degrees  and  thirteen  minutes  northeast  and  by  north 
main  branch  seventh  limb  east  side  shoot  from  the  left  eye  of 
the  death's-head  a  bee-line  from  the  tree  through  the  shot 
fifty  feet  out,  '  n 

"  But,"  said  I,  "  the  enigma  seems  still  in  as  bad  a 
condition  as  ever.  How  is  it  possible  to  extort  a 
meaning  from  all  this  jargon  about  *  devil's  seats,' 
*  death's-heads,'  and  '  bishop's  hotels  ?  '  " 

"  I  confess,"  replied  Legrand,  "  that  the  matter  still 
wears  a  serious  aspect,  when  regarded  with  a  casual 
glance.  My  first  endeavor  was  to  divide  the  sentence 
into  the  natural  division  intended  by  the  cryptograph- 
ist." 

"  You  mean,  to  punctuate  it  ?  " 

<&  Something  of  that  kind." 

"  But  how  was  it  possible  to  effect  this  ?  " 

165 


The   Gold-Bug 

"  I  reflected  that  it  had  been  a  point  with  the  writer 
to  run  his  words  together  without  division,  so  as  to 
increase  the  difficulty  of  solution.  Now,  a  not  over- 
acute  man,  in  pursuing  such  an  object,  would  be 
nearly  certain  to  overdo  the  matter.  When,  in  the 
course  of  his  composition,  he  arrived  at  a  break  in  his 
subject  which  would  naturally  require  a  pause,  or  a 
point,  he  would  be  exceedingly  apt  to  run  his  charac 
ters,  at  this  place,  more  than  usually  close  together. 
If  you  will  observe  the  MS.,  in  the  present  instance, 
you  will  easily  detect  five  such  cases  of  unusual  crowd 
ing.  Acting  upon  this  hint,  I  made  the  division  thus : 

"  '  A  good  glass  in  the  bishop's  hostel  in  the  devil's  seat,— 
forty-one  degrees  and  thirteen  minutes — northeast  and  by 
north — main  branch  seventh  limb  east  side — shoot  from  the 
left  eye  of  the  death's-head — a  bee-line  from  the  tree  through 
the  shot  fifty  feet  out.'  " 

"  Even  this  division,"  said  I,  "  leaves  me  still  in  the 
dark." 

"  It  left  me  also  in  the  dark,"  replied  Legrand,  "  for 
a  few  days,  during  which  I  made  diligent  inquiry,  in 
the  neighborhood  of  Sullivan's  Island,  for  any  build 
ing  which  went  by  the  name  of  the  *  Bishop's  Hotel ' ; 
for,  of  course,  I  dropped  the  obsolete  word  '  hostel.1 
Gaining  no  information  on  the  subject,  I  was  on  the 
point  of  extending  my  sphere  of  search  and  proceeding 
in  a  more  systematic  manner,  when  one  morning  it  en- 

1 66 


The   Gold-Bug 

tered  into  my  head,  quite  suddenly,  that  this  *  Bishop's 
Hostel '  might  have  some  reference  to  an  old  family  of 
the  name  of  Bessop,  which,  time  out  of  mind,  had  held 
possession  of  an  ancient  manor-house,  about  four 
miles  to  the  northward  of  the  island.  I  accordingly 
went  over  to  the  plantation  and  reinstituted  my  in 
quiries  among  the  older  negroes  of  the  place.  At 
length  one  of  the  most  aged  of  the  women  said  that 
she  had  heard  of  such  a  place  as  *  Bessop's  Castle,1  and 
thought  that  she  could  guide  me  to  it,  but  that  it  was 
not  a  castle,  nor  a  tavern,  but  a  high  rock. 

"  I  offered  to  pay  her  well  for  her  trouble,  and, 
after  some  demur,  she  consented  to  accompany  me 
to  the  spot.  We  found  it  without  much  difficulty, 
when,  dismissing  her,  I  proceeded  to  examine  the 
place,  The  *  castle  '  consisted  of  an  irregular  assem 
blage  of  cliffs  and  rocks — one  of  the  latter  being  quite 
remarkable  for  its  height  as  well  as  for  its  insulated 
and  artificial  appearance.  I  clambered  to  its  apex, 
and  then  felt  much  at  a  loss  as  to  what  should  be 
next  done, 

"  While  I  was  busied  in  reflection,  my  eyes  fell  upon 
a  narrow  ledge  in  the  eastern  face  of  the  rock,  perhaps 
a  yard  below  the  summit  upon  which  I  stood.  This 
ledge  projected  about  eighteen  inches,  and  was  not 
more  than  a  foot  wide,  while  a  niche  in  the  cliff  just 
above  it  gave  it  a  rude  resemblance  to  one  of  the  nol- 
low-backed  chairs  used  by  our  ancestors.  I  made  no 


The   Gold-Bug 

doubt  that  here  was  the  *  devil's  seat '  alluded  to  in 
the  MS.,  and  now  I  seemed  to  grasp  the  full  secret  of 
the  riddle. 

"  The  *  good  glass,'  I  knew,  could  have  reference  tc 
nothing  but  a  telescope ;  for  the  word  '  glass  '  is  rarely 
employed  in  any  other  sense  by  seamen.  Now  here, 
I  at  once  saw,  was  a  telescope  to  be  used,  and  a  definite 
point  of  view,  admitting  no  variation,  from  which  to 
use  it.  Nor  did  I  hesitate  to  believe  that  the  phrases, 
1  forty-one  degrees  and  thirteen  minutes,1  and  *  north 
east  and  by.  north,'  were  intended  as  directions  for  the 
levelling  of  the  glass.  Greatly  excited  by  these  dis 
coveries,  I  hurried  home,  procured  a  telescope,  and 
returned  to  the  rock. 

"  I  let  myself  down  to  the  ledge,  and  found  that  it 
was  impossible  to  retain  a  seat  upon  it  except  in  one 
particular  position.  This  fact  confirmed  my  precon 
ceived  idea.  I  proceeded  to  use  the  glass.  Of  course, 
the  *  forty-one  degrees  and  thirteen  minutes  '  could 
allude  to  nothing  but  elevation  above  the  visible  hori 
zon,  since  the  horizontal  direction  was  clearly  indi 
cated  by  the  words,  *  northeast  and  by  north.'  This 
latter  direction  I  at  once  established  by  means  of  a 
pocket-compass ;  then,  pointing  the  glass  as  nearly  at 
an  angle  of  forty-one  degrees  of  elevation  as  I  could 
do  it  by  guess,  I  moved  it  cautiously  up  or  down,  until 
my  attention  was  arrested  by  a  circular  rift  or  opening 
in  the  foliage  of  a  large  tree  that  overtopped  its  fellows 

168 


The   Gold-Bug 

in  the  distance.  In  the  centre  of  this  rift  I  perceived 
a  white  spot,  but  could  not,  at  first,  distinguish  what 
it  was.  Adjusting  the  focus  of  the  telescope,  I  again 
looked,  and  now  made  it  out  to  be  a  human  skull. 

"  Upon  this  discovery  I  was  so  sanguine  as  to  con 
sider  the  enigma  solved ;  for  the  phrase  *  main  branch, 
seventh  limb,  east  side,'  could  refer  only  to  the  position 
of  the  skull  upon  the  tree,  while  *  shoot  from  the  left 
eye  of  the  death's-head '  admitted,  also,  of  but  one  in 
terpretation,  in  regard  to  a  search  for  buried  treasure. 
I  perceived  that  the  design  was  to  drop  a  bullet  from 
the  left  eye  of  the  skull,  and  that  a  bee-line,  or,  in  other 
words,  a  straight  line,  drawn  from  the  nearest  point  of 
the  trunk  through  '  the  shot '  (or  the  spot  where  the 
bullet  fell),  and  thence  extended  to  a  distance  of  fifty 
feet,  would  indicate  a  definite  point ;  and  beneath  this 
point  I  thought  it  at  least  possible  that  a  deposit  of 
value  lay  concealed." 

"  All  this,"  I  said,  "  is  exceedingly  .clear,  and,  al 
though  ingenious,  still  simple  and  explicit  When 
you  left  the  Bishop's  Hotel,  what  then  ?  " 

"  Why,  having  carefully  taken  the  bearings  of  the 
tree,  I  turned  homeward.  The  instant  that  I  left  '  the 
devil's  seat,'  however,  the  circular  rift  vanished;  nor 
couid  I  get  a  glimpse  of  it  afterward,  turn  as  I  would. 
What  seems  to  me  the  chief  ingenuity  in  this  whole 
business  is  the  fact  (for  repeated  experiment  has  con 
vinced  me  it  is  a  fact)  that  the  circular  opening  in 

169 


The   Gold-Bug 

question  is  visible  from  no  other  attainable  point  of 
view  than  that  afforded  by  the  narrow  ledge  upon  the 
face  of  the  rock. 

"  In  this  expedition  to  the  '  Bishop's  Hotel »  I  had 
been  attended  by  Jupiter,  who  had,  no  doubt,  observed, 
for  some  weeks  past,  the  abstraction  of  my  demeanor 
and  took  especial  care  not  to  leave  me  alone.  But, 
on  the  next  day,  getting  up  very  early,  I  contrived  to 
give  him  the  slip,  and  went  into  the  hills  in  search  of 
the  tree.  After  much  toil  I  found  it.  When  I  came 
home  at  night  my  valet  proposed  to  give  me  a  flogging. 
With  the  rest  of  the  adventure  I  believe  you  are  as 
well  acquainted  as  myself." 

"  I  suppose,"  said  I,  "  you  missed  the  spot  in  the 
first  attempt  at  digging,  through  Jupiter's  stupidity  in 
letting  the  bug  fall  through  the  right  instead  of  through 
the  left  eye  of  the  skull." 

"  Precisely.  This  mistake  made  a  difference  of 
about  two  inches  and  a  half  in  the  '  shot ' — that  is  to 
say,  in  the  position  of  the  peg  nearest  the  tree;  and 
had  the  treasure  been  beneath  the  '  shot,'  the  error 
would  have  been  of  little  moment ;  but  '  the  shot,5 
together  with  the  nearest  point  of  the  tree,  were  merely 
two  points  for  the  establishment  of  a  line  of  direction ; 
of  course  the  error,  however  trivial  in  the  beginning, 
increased  as  we  proceeded  with  the  line,  and,  by  the 
time  we  had  gone  fifty  feet,  threw  us  quite  off  the 
scent.  But  for  my  deep-seated  impressions  that 

170 


The   Gold-Bug 

treasure   was   here   somewhere   actually   buried,   we 
might  have  had  all  our  labor  in  vain." 

"  But  your  grandiloquence  and  your  conduct  in 
swinging  the  beetle — how  excessively  odd!  I  was  sure 
you  were  mad.  And  why  did  you  insist  upon  letting 
fall  the  bug,  instead  of  a  bullet,  from  the  skull  ?  " 

"  Why,  to  be  frank,  I  felt  somewhat  annoyed  by 
your  evident  suspicions  touching  my  sanity,  and  so 
resolved  to  punish  you  quietly,  in  my  own  way,  by  a 
little  bit  of  sober  mystification.  For  this  reason  I 
swung  the  beetle,  and  for  this  reason  I  let  it  fall  from 
the  tree.  An  observation  of  yours  about  its  great 
weight  suggested  the  latter  idea." 

"  Yes,  I  perceive ;  and  now  there  is  only  one  point 
which  puzzles  me.  What  are  we  to  make  of  the 
skeletons  found  in  the  hole  ?  " 

"  That  is  a  question  I  am  no  more  able  to  answer 
than  yourself.  There  seems,  however,  only  one 
plausible  way  of  accounting  for  them,  and  yet  it  is 
dreadful  to  believe  in  such  atrocity  as  my  suggestion 
would  imply.  It  is  clear  that  Kidd  (if  Kidd  indeed 
secreted  this  treasure,  which  I  doubt  not) — it  is  clear 
vhat  he  must  have  had  assistance  in  the  labor.  But, 
this  labor  concluded,  he  may  have  thought  it  expedient 
to  remove  all  participants  in  his  secret.  Perhaps  a 
couple  of  blows  with  a  mattock  were  sufficient,  while 
his  coadjutors  were  busy  in  the  pit;  perhaps  it  re 
quired  a  dozen — who  shall  tell  ?  " 

171 


"fep^—T """"F?     j=-^;l| 

iThe  Black  Cat 


OR  the  most  wild,  yet  most  homely  narrative 
which  I  am  about  to  pen,  I  neither  expect 
nor  solicit  belief.  Mad  indeed  would  I 
be  to  expect  it,  in  a  case  where  my  very  senses 
reject  their  own  evidence.  Yet  mad  am  I  not,  and 
very  surely  do  I  not  dream.  But  to-morrow  I  die, 
and  to-day  I  would  unburden  my  soul.  My  im 
mediate  purpose  is  to  place  before  the  world,  plainly, 
succinctly,  and  without  comment,  a  series  of  mere 
household  events.  In  their  consequences,  these  events 
have  terrified,  have  tortured,  have  destroyed  me. 
Yet  I  will  not  attempt  to  expound  them.  To  me;< 
they  have  presented  little  but  horror;  to  many  they 
will  seem  less  terrible  than  baroques.  Hereafter, 
perhaps,  some  intellect  may  be  found  which  will 
reduce  my  phantasm  to  the  commonplace — some  in 
tellect  more  calm,  more  logical,  and  far  less  excitable 
than  my  own,  which  will  perceive,  in  the  circum- 

172 


The  Black  Cat 


stances  I  detail  with  awe,  nothing  more  than  an 
ordinary  succession  of  very  natural  causes  and  effects. 

From  my  infancy  I  was  noted  for  the  docility  and 
humanity  of  my  disposition.  My  tenderness  of  heart 
was  even  so  conspicuous  as  to  make  me  the  jest  of  my 
companions.  I  was  especially  fond  of  animals,  and 
was  indulged  by  my  parents  with  a  great  variety  of 
pets.  With  these  I  spent  most  of  my  time,  and  never 
was  so  happy  as  when  feeding  and  caressing  them. 
This  peculiarity  of  character  grew  with  my  growth, 
and  in  my  manhood  I  derived  from  it  one  of  my  prin 
cipal  sources  of  pleasure.  To  those  who  have  cher 
ished  an  affection  for  a  faithful  and  sagacious  dog  I 
need  hardly  be  at  the  trouble  of  explaining  the  nature 
or  the  intensity  of  the  gratification  thus  derivable. 
There  is  something  in  the  unselfish  and  self-sacrificing 
love  of  a  brute  which  goes  directly  to  the  heart  of  him 
who  has  had  frequent  occasion  to  test  the  paltry 
friendship  and  gossamer  fidelity  of  mere  man. 

I  married  early,  and  was  happy  to  find  in  my  wife  a 
disposition  not  uncongenial  with  my  own.  Observing 
my  partiality  for  do.nestic  pets,  she  lost  no  opportunity 
of  procuring  those  of  the  most  agreeable  kind.  We 
had  birds,  gold-fish,  a  fine  dog,  rabbits,  a  small  monkey, 
and  a  cat. 

This  latter  was  a  remarkably  large  and  beautiful 
animal,  entirely  black,  and  sagacious  to  an  astonish 
ing  degree.  In  speaking  of  his  intelligence,  my  wife, 


The  Black  Cat 


who  at  heart  was  not  a  little  tinctured  with  supersti 
tion,  made  frequent  allusion  to  the  ancient  popular 
notion,  which  regarded  all  black  cats  as  witches  in 
disguise.  Not  that  she  was  ever  serious  upon  this 
point,  and  I  mention  the  matter  at  all  for  no  better 
reason  than  that  it  happens,  just  now,  to  be  remem 
bered. 

Pluto — this  was  the  cat's  name — was  my  favorite 
pet  and  playmate.  I  alone  fed  him,  and  he  attended 
me  wherever  I  went  about  the  house.  It  was  even 
with  difficulty  that  I  could  prevent  him  from  following 
me  through  the  streets. 

Our  friendship  lasted  in  this  manner  for  several 
years,  during  which  my  general  temperament  and 
character,  through  the  instrumentality  of  the  fiend 
intemperance,  had  (I  blush  to  confess  it)  experienced 
a  radical  alteration  for  the  worse.  I  grew,  day  by 
day,  more  moody,  more  irritable,  more  regardless  of 
the  feelings  of  others.  I  suffered  myself  to  use  intem 
perate  language  to  my  wife.  At  length  I  even  offered 
her  personal  violence.  My  pets,  of  course,  were  made 
to  feel  the  change  in  my  disposition.  I  -not  only 
neglected,  but  ill-used,  them.  For  Pluto,  however,  I 
still  retained  sufficient  regard  to  restrain  me  from 
maltreating  him,  as  I  made  no  scruple  of  maltreating 
the  rabbits,  the  monkey,  or  £ven  the  'dog,  when,  by 
accident,  or  through  affection,  they  came  in  my  way. 
But  my  disease  grew  upon  me — for  what  disease  is 

174 


The  Black  Cat 


like  alcohol! — and  at  length  even  Pluto,  who  was  now 
becoming  old  and  consequently  somewhat  peevish — 
even  Pluto  began  to  experience  the  effects  of  my  ill- 
temper. 

One  night,  returning  home  much  intoxicated  from 
one  of  my  haunts  about  town,  I  fancied  that  the  cat 
avoided  my  presence.  I  seized  him,  when,  in  his 
fright  at  my  violence,  he  inflicted  a  slight  wound  upon 
my  hand  with  his  teeth.  The  fury  of  a  demon  in 
stantly  possessed  me.  I  knew  myself  no  longer.  My 
original  soul  seemed,  at  once,  to  take  its  flight  from 
my  body ;  and  a  more  than  fiendish  malevolence,  gin- 
nurtured,  thrilled  every  fibre  of  my  frame.  I  took 
from  my  waistcoat-pocket  a  penknife,  opened  it, 
grasped  the  poor  beast  by  the  throat,  and  deliberately 
cut  one  of  its  eyes  from  the  socket!  I  blush,  I  burn, 
I  shudder,  while  I  pen  the  damnable  atrocity. 

When  reason  returned  with  the  morning — when  I 
had  slept  off  the  fumes  of  the  night's  debauch — I  ex 
perienced  a  sentiment  half  of  horror,  half  of  remorse, 
for  the  crime  of  which  I  had  been  guilty;  but  it  was, 
at  best,  a  feeble  and  equivocal  feeling,  and  the  soul 
remained  untouched.  I  again  plunged  into  excess 
and  soon  drowned  in  wine  all  memory  of  the  deed. 

In  the  meantime  the  cat  slowly  recovered.  The 
socket  of  the  lost  eye  presented,  it  is  true,  a  frightful 
appearance,  but  he  no  longer  appeared  to  suffer  any 
pain.  He  went  about  the  house  as  usual,  but,  as 


The  Black  Cat 

* 

might  be  expected,  fled  in  extreme  terror  at  my  ap 
proach.  I  had  so  much  of  my  old  heart  left  as  to  be 
at  first  grieved  by  this  evident  dislike  on  the  part  of 
a  creature  which  had  once  so  loved  me.  But  this 
feeling  soon  gave  place  to  irritation.  And  then  came 
as  if  to  my  final  and  irrevocable  overthrow,  the  spirit 
of  perverseness.  Of  this  spirit  philosophy  takes  no 
account.  Yet  I  am  not  more  sure  that  my  soul  lives 
than  I  am  that  perverseness  is  one  of  the  primitive 
impulses  of  the  human  heart — one  of  the  indivisible 
primary  faculties,  or  sentiments,  which  give  direction 
to  the  character  of  man.  Who  has  not,  a  hundred 
times,  found  himself  committing  a  vile  or  a  stupid 
action,  for  no  other  reason  than  because  he  knows 
he  should  not  ?  Have  we  not  a  perpetual  inclination, 
in  the  teeth  of  our  best  judgment,  to  violate  that  which 
is  law,  merely  because  we  understand  it  to  be  such  ? 
This  spirit  of  perverseness,  I  say,  came  to  my  final 
overthrow.  It  was  this  unfathomable  longing  of  the 
soul  to  vex  itself,  to  offer  violence  to  its  own  nature, 
to  do  wrong  for  the  wrong's  sake  only,  that  urged  me 
to  continue  and  finally  to  consummate  the  injury  I 
had  inflicted  upon  the  unoffending  brute.  One  morn 
ing,  in  cold  blood,  I  slipped  a  noose  about  its  neck  and 
hung  it  to  the  limb  of  a  tree ;  hung  it  with  the  tears 
streaming  from  my  eyes,  and  with  the  bitterest  re 
morse  at  my  heart ;  hung  it  because  I  knew  that  it  had 
loved  me,  and  because  I  felt  it  had  given  me  no  reason 

,,6 


The  Black  Cat 


of  offence ;  hung  it  because  I  knew  that  in  so  doing  I 
was  committing  a  sin,  a  deadly  sin  that  would  so 
jeopardize  my  immortal  soul  as  to  place  it,  if  such  a 
thing  were  possible,  even  beyond  the  reach  of  the  in 
finite  mercy  of  the  most  merciful  and  most  terrible 
God. 

On  the  night  of  the  day  on  which  this  most  cruel 
deed  was  done,  I  was  aroused  from  sleep  by  the  cry  of 
fire.  The  curtains  of  my  bed  were  in  flames.  The 
whole  house  was  blazing.  It  was  with  great  difficulty 
that  my  wife,  a  servant,  and  myself  made  our  escape 
from  the  conflagration.  The  destruction  was  com 
plete.  My  entire  worldly  wealth  was  swallowed  up, 
and  I  resigned  myself  thenceforward  to  despair. 

I  am  above  the  weakness  of  seeking  to  establish  a 
sequence  of  cause  and  effect  between  the  disaster  and 
the  atrocity.  But  I  am  detailing  a  chain  of  facts,  and 
wish  not  to  leave  even  a  possible  link  imperfect.  On 
the  day  succeeding  the  fire  I  visited  the  ruins.  The 
walls,  with  one  exception,  had  fallen  in.  This  excep 
tion  was  found  in  a  compartment  wall,  not  very  thick, 
which  stood  about  the  middle  of  the  house,  and  against 
which  had  rested  the  head  of  my  bed.  The  plastering 
had  here,  in  great  measure,  resisted  the  action  of  the 
fire,  a  fact  which  I  attributed  to  its  having  been  re 
cently  spread.  About  this  wall  a  dense  crowd  were 
collected,  and  many  persons  seemed  to  be  examining 
a  particular  portion  of  it  with  very  minute  and  eager 

VOL.    V. — 12.  177 


The  Black  Cat 


attention.  The  words  "  strange!  "  "  singular! ):  and 
other  similar  expressions  excited  my  curiosity.  I 
approached  and  saw,  as  if  graven  in  bas-relief  upon 
the  white  surface,  the  figure  of  a  gigantic  cat.  The 
impression  was  given  with  an  accuracy  truly  mar 
vellous.  There  was  a  rope  about  the  animal's  neck. 

When  I  first  beheld  this  apparition,  for  I  could 
scarcely  regard  it  as  less,  my  wonder  and  my  terror 
were  extreme.  But  at  length  reflection  came  to  my 
aid.  The  cat,  I  remembered,  had  been  hung  in  a 
garden  adjacent  to  the  house.  Upon  the  alarm  of  fire, 
this  garden  had  been  immediately  filled  by  the  crowd— 
by  some  one  of  whom  the  animal  must  have  been  cut 
from  the  tree  and  thrown,  through  an  open  window, 
into  my  chamber.  This  had  probably  been  done  with 
the  view  of  arousing  me  from  sleep.  The  falling  of 
other  walls  had  compressed  the  victim  of  my  cruelty 
into  the  substance  of  the  freshly  spread  plaster;  the 
lime  of  which,  with  the  flames,  and  the  ammonia  from 
the  carcass,  had  then  accomplished  the  portraiture  as 
I  saw  it. 

Although  I  thus  readily  accounted  to  my  reason,  if 
not  altogether  to  my  conscience,  for  the  startling  fact 
just  detailed,  it  did  not  the  less  fail  to  make  a  deep 
impression  upon  my  fancy.  For  months  I  could  not 
rid  myself  of  the  phantasm  of  the  cat ;  and,  during  this 
period  there  came  back  into  my  spirit  a  half-senti 
ment  that  seemed,  but  was  not,  remorse.  I  went  so 

178 


The  Black  Cat 


far  as  to  regret  the  loss  of  the  animal,  and  to  look 
about  me,  among  the  vile  haunts  which  I  now  habitu 
ally  frequented,  for  another  pet  of  the  same  species  and 
of  somewhat  similar  appearance,  with  which  to  supply 
its  place. 

One  night  as  I  sat,  half  stupefied,  in  a  den  of  more 
than  infamy,  my  attention  was  suddenly  drawn  to 
some  black  object  reposing  upon  the  head  of  one  of 
the  immense  hogsheads  of  gin  or  of  rum  which  con 
stituted  the  chief  furniture  of  the  apartment.  I  had 
been  looking  steadily  at  the  top  of  this  hogshead  for 
some  minutes,  and  what  now  caused  me  surprise  was 
the  fact  that  I  had  not  sooner  perceived  the  object 
thereupon.  I  approached  it  and  touched  it  with  my 
hand.  It  was  a  black  cat,  a  very  large  one,  fully  as 
large  as  Pluto,  and  closely  resembling  him  in  every 
respect  but  one.  Pluto  had  not  a  white  hair  upon  any 
portion  of  his  body ;  but  this  cat  had  a  large,  although 
indefinite  splotch  of  white,  covering  nearly  the  whole 
region  of  the  breast. 

Upon  my  touching  him  he  immediately  arose,  purred 
loudly,  rubbed  against  my  hand,  and  appeared  de 
lighted  with  my  notice.  This,  then,  was  the  very  crea 
ture  of  which  I  was  in  search.  I  at  once  offered  to 
t  purchase  it  of  the  landlord;  but  this  person  made  no 
claim  to  it,  knew  nothing  of  it,  had  never  seen  it  before. 

I  continued  my  caresses,  and  when  I  prepared  to  go 
home  the  animal  evinced  a  disposition  to  accompany 


The  Black  Cat 


me.  I  permitted  it  to  do  so;  occasionally  stooping 
and  patting  it  as  I  proceeded.  When  it  reached  the 
house  it  domesticated  itself  at  once,  and  became  im 
mediately  a  great  favorite  with  my  wife. 

For  my  own  part,  I  soon  found  a  dislike  to  it  arising 
within  me.  This  was  just  the  reverse  of  what  I  had 
anticipated ;  but,  I  know  not  how  or  why  it  was,  its 
evident  fondness  for  myself  rather  disgusted  and 
annoyed  me.  By  slow  degrees  these  feelings  of  dis 
gust  and  annoyance  rose  into  the  bitterness  of  hatred. 
I  avoided  the  creature ;  a  certain  sense  of  shame,  and 
the  remembrance  of  my  former  deed  of  cruelty,  pre 
venting  me  from  physically  abusing  it.  I  did  not,  for 
some  weeks,  strike  or  otherwise  violently  ill-use  it; 
but  gradually — very  gradually — I  came  to  look  upon 
it  with  unutterable  loathing,  and  to  flee  silently  from 
its  odious  presence  as  from  the  breath  of  a  pestilence. 

What  added,  no  doubt,  to  my  hatred  of  the  beast, 
was  the  discovery,  on  the  morning  after  I  brought  it 
home,  that,  like  Pluto,  it  also  had  been  deprived  of  one 
of  its  eyes.  This  circumstance,  however,  only  en 
deared  it  to  my  wife,  who,  as  I  have  already  said, 
possessed,  in  a  high  degree,  that  humanity  of  feeling 
which  had  once  been  my  distinguishing  trait,  and  the 
source  of  many  of  my  simplest  and  purest  pleasures. 

With  my  aversion  to  this  cat,  however,  its  partiality 
for  myself  seemed  to  increase.  It  followed  my  foot 
steps  with  a  pertinacity  which  it  would  be  difficult  to 

180 


The  Black  Cat 


make  the  reader  comprehend.  Whenever  I  sat,  it 
would  crouch  beneath  my  chair  or  spring  upon  my 
knees,  covering  me  with  its  loathsome  caresses.  If  I 
arose  to  walk  it  would  get  between  my  feet  and  thus 
nearly  throw  me  down,  or,  fastening  its  long  and 
sharp  claws  in  my  dress,  clamber,  in  this  manner,  to 
my  breast.  At  such  times,  although  I  longed  to  de 
stroy  it  with  a  blow,  I  was  yet  withheld  from  so  doing, 
partly  by  a  memory  of  my  former  crime,  but  chiefly — 
let  me  confess  it  at  once — by  absolute  dread  of  the 
beast. 

This  dread  was  not  exactly  a  dread  of  physical  evil, 
and  yet  I  should  be  at  a  loss  how  otherwise  to  define 
it.  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  own — yes,  even  in  this 
felon's  cell,  I  am  almost  ashamed  to  own — that  the 
terror  and  horror  with  which  the  animal  inspired  me 
had  been  heightened  by  one  of  the  merest  chimeras  it 
would  be  possible  to  conceive.  My  wife  had  called 
my  attention,  more  than  once,  to  the  character  of  the 
mark  of  white  hair,  of  which  I  have  spoken,  and  which 
constituted  the  sole  visible  difference  between  the 
strange  beast  and  the  one  I  had  destroyed.  The 
reader  will  remember  that  this  mark,  although  large, 
had  been  originally  very  indefinite;  but,  by  slow 
degrees — degrees  nearly  imperceptible,  and  which  for 
a  long  time  my  reason  struggled  to  reject  as  fanciful— 
it  had  at  length  assumed  a  rigorous  distinctness  of 
outline.  It  was  now  the  representation  of  an  object 

181 


The  Black  Cat 


that  I  shudder  to  name;  and  for  this,  above  all,  I 
loathed  and  dreaded,  and  would  have  rid  myself  of 
the  monster  had  I  dared ;  it  was  now,  I  say,  the  image 
of  a  hideous,  of  a  ghastly  thing — of  the  gallows! — 
oh,  mournful  and  terrible  engine  of  horror  and  of 
crime,  of  agony  and  of  death! 

And  now  was  I  indeed  wretched  beyond  the  wretch 
edness  of  mere  humanity.  And  a  brute  beast,  whose 
fellow  I  had  contemptuously  destroyed  —  a  brute 
beast  to  work  out  for  me — for  me,  a  man  fashioned  in 
the  image  of  the  High  God,  so  much  of  insufferable 
woe!  Alas!  neither  by  day  nor  by  night  knew  I  the 
blessing  of  rest  any  more!  During  the  former  the 
creature  left  me  no  moment  alone,  and  in  the  latter  I 
started  hourly  from  dreams  of  unutterable  fear  to  find 
the  hot  breath  of  the  thing  upon  my  face,  and  its  vast 
weight,  an  incarnate  nightmare  that  I  had  no  power 
to  shake  off,  incumbent  eternally  upon  my  heart !  < 

Beneath  the  pressure  of  torments  such  as  these,  the 
feeble  remnant  of  the  good  within  me  succumbed. 
Evil  thoughts  became  my  sole  intimates — the  darkest 
and  most  evil  of  thoughts.  The  moodiness  of  my 
usual  temper  increased  to  hatred  of  all  things  and  of 
all  mankind;  while  from  the  sudden,  frequent,  and 
ungovernable  outbursts  of  a  fury  to  which  I  now 
blindly  abandoned  myself,  my  uncomplaining  wife, 
alas!  was  the  most  usual  and  the  most  patient  of 
sufferers. 

182 


The  Black  Cat 


One  day  she  accompanied  me  upon  some  household 
errand  into  the  cellar  of  the  old  building  which  our 
poverty  compelled  us  to  inhabit.  The  cat  followed  me 
down  the  steep  stairs,  and,  nearly  throwing  me  head 
long,  exasperated  me  to  madness.  Uplifting  an  axes 
and  forgetting  in  my  wrath  the  childish  dread  which 
had  hitherto  stayed  my  hand,  I  aimed  a  blow  at  the 
animal,  which,  of  course,  would  have  proved  instantly 
fatal  had  it  descended  as  I  wished.  But  this  blow 
was  arrested  by  the  hand  of  my  wife.  Goaded  by  the 
interference  into  a  rage  more  than  demoniacal,  I 
withdrew  my  arm  from  her  grasp  and  buried  the  axe 
in  her  brain.  She  fell  dead  upon  the  spot  without 
a  groan. 

This  hideous  murder  accomplished,  I  set  myself 
forthwith,  and  with  entire  deliberation,  to  the  task  of 
concealing  the  body,  I  knew  that  I  could  not  remove 
it  from  the  house,  either  by  day  or  by  night,  without 
the  risk  of  being  observed  by  the  neighbors.  Many 
projects  entered  my  mind.  At  one  period  I  thought 
of  cutting  the  corpse  into  minute  fragments  and  de 
stroying  them  by  fire.  At  another,  I  resolved  to  dig  a 
grave  for  it  in  the  floor  of  the  cellar.  Again,  I  delib 
erated  about  casting  it  in  the  well  in  the  yard ;  about 
packing  it  in  a  box,  as  if  merchandise,  with  the  usual 
arrangements,  and  so  getting  a  porter  to  take  it  from 
the  house.  Finally  I  hit  upon  what  I  considered  a  far 
better  expedient  than  either  of  these.  I  determined  to 

183 


The  Black  Cat 


wall  it  up  in  the  cellar,  as  the  monks  of  the  Middle 
Ages  are  recorded  to  have  walled  up  their  victims. 

For  a  purpose  such  as  this  the  cellar  was  well 
adapted.  Its  walls  were  loosely  constructed,  and  had 
lately  been  plastered  throughout  with  a  rough  plaster, 
which  the  dampness  of  the  atmosphere  had  prevented 
from  hardening.  Moreover,  in  one  of  the  walls  was  a 
projection,  caused  by  a  false  chimney,  or  fireplace,  that 
had  been  filled  up  and  made  to  resemble  the  rest  of  the 
cellar.  I  made  no  doubt  that  I  could  readily  displace 
the  bricks  at  this  point,  insert  the  corpse,  and  wall  the 
whole  up  as  before,  so  that  no  eye  could  detect  any 
thing  suspicious. 

And  in  this  calculation  I  was  not  deceived.  By 
means  of  a  crowbar  I  easily  dislodged  the  bricks,  and, 
having  carefully  deposited  the  body  against  the  inner 
wall,  I  propped  it  in  that  position^  while  with  little 
trouble  I  relaid  the  whole  structure  as  it  originally 
stood.  Having  procured  mortar,  sand,  and  hair,  with 
every  possible  precaution  I  prepared  a  plaster  which 
could  not  be  distinguished  from  the  old,  and  with  this 
I  very  carefully  went  over  the  new  brick-work.  When 
I  had  finished,  I  felt  satisfied  that  all  was  right.  The 
wall  did  not  present  the  slightest  appearance  of  having 
been  disturbed.  The  rubbish  on  the  floor  was  picked 
up  with  the  minutest  care.  I  looked  around  tri 
umphantly  and  said  to  myself:  "  Here  at  least,  then, 
my  labor  has  not  been  in  vain." 

184 


The  Black  Cat 


My  next  step  was  to  look  for  the  beast  which  had 
been  the  cause  of  so  much  wretchedness;  for  I  had 
at  length  firmly  resolved  to  put  it  to  death.  Had  I 
been  able  to  meet  with  it  at  the  moment,  there  could 
have  been  no  doubt  of  its  fate;  but  it  appeared  that 
the  crafty  animal  had  been  alarmed  at  the  violence  of 
my  previous  anger,  and  forbore  to  present  itself  in  my 
present  mood.  It  is  impossible  to  describe,  or  to  im 
agine,  the  deep,  the  blissful  sense  of  relief  which  the 
absence  of  the  detested  creature  occasioned  in  my 
bosom.  It  did  not  make  its  appearance  during  the 
night ;  and  thus  for  one  night,  at  least,  since  its  intro 
duction  into  the  house,  I  soundly  and  tranquilly  slept ; 
aye,  slept  even  with  the  burden  of  murder  upon  my 
soul. 

The  second  and  the  third  day  passed,  and  still  my 
tormentor  came  not.  Once  again  I  breathed  as  a 
freeman.  The  monster,  in  terror,  had  fled  the  prem 
ises  for  ever ;  I  should  behold  it  no  rnore !  My  hap 
piness  was  supreme!  The  guilt  of  my  dark  deed  dis 
turbed  me  but  little.  Some  few  inquiries  had  been 
made,  but  these  had  been  readily  answered.  Even  a 
search  had  been  instituted,  but,  of  course,  nothing  was 
to  be  discovered.  I  looked  upon  my  future  felicity  as 
secured. 

Upon  the  fourth  day  of  the  assassination,  a  party  of 
the  police  came,  very  unexpectedly,  into  the  house,  and 
proceeded  again  to  make  rigorous  investigation  of  the 


The  Black  Cat 


premises,  Secure,  however,  in  the  inscrutability  of 
my  place  of  concealment,  I  felt  no  embarrassment 
whatever.  The  officers  bade  me  accompany  them  in 
their  search.  They  left  no  nook  or  corner  unexplored. 
At  length,  for  the  third  or  fourth  time,  they  descended 
into  the  cellar.  I  quivered  not  in  a  muscle.  My 
heart  beat  calmly  as  that  of  one  who  slumbers  in  in 
nocence.  I  walked  the  cellar  from  end  to  end.  I 
folded  my  arms  upon  my  bosom  and  roamed  easily  to 
and  fro.  The  police  were  thoroughly  satisfied  and 
prepared  to  depart.  The  glee  at  my  heart  was  too 
strong  to  be  restrained.  I  burned  to  say  if  but  one 
word,  by  way  of  triumph,  and  to  render  doubly  sure 
their  assurance  of  my  guiltlessness. 

"  Gentlemen,"  I  said  at  last,  as  the  party  ascended 
the  steps,  "  I  delight  to  have  allayed  your  suspicions. 
I  wish  you  all  health  and  a  little  more  courtesy.  By 
the  bye,  gentlemen,  this — this  is  a  very  well-constructed 
house  "  (In  the  rabid  desire  to  say  something  easily,  I 
scarcely  knew  what  I  uttered  at  all),  "I  may  say  an 
excellently  well-constructed  house.  These  walls — are 
you  going,  gentlemen  ? — these  walls  are  solidly  put 
together;"  and  here,  through  the  mere  frenzy  of 
bravado,  I  rapped  heavily  with  a  cane  which  I  held  in 
my  hand  upon  that  very  portion  of  the  brickwork  be 
hind  which  stood  the  corpse  of  the  wife  of  my  bosom. 

But  may  God  shield  and  deliver  me  from  the  fangs 
of  the  Arch-Fiend!  No  sooner  had  the  reverberation 

186 


The  Black  Cat 


of  my  blows  sunk  into  silence  than  I  was  answered  by 
a  voice  from  within  the  tomb! — by  a  cry,  at  first 
muffled  and  broken,  like  the  sobbing  of  a  child,  and 
then  quickly  swelling  into  one  long,  loud,  and  con 
tinuous  scream,  utterly  anomalous  and  inhuman — a 
howl,  a  wailing  shriek,  half  of  horror  and  half  of  tri 
umph,  such  as  might  have  arisen  only  out  of  hell,  con 
jointly  from  the  throats  of  the  damned  in  their  agony 
and  of  the  demons  that  exult  in  the  damnation. 

Of  my  own  thoughts  it  is  folly  to  speak.  Swooning, 
I  staggered  to  the  opposite  wall.  For  one  instant  the 
party  on  the  stairs  remained  motionless,  through  ex 
tremity  of  terror  and  awe.  In  the  next  a  dozen  stout 
arms  were  toiling  at  the  wall.  It  fell  bodily.  The 
corpse,  already  greatly  decayed  and  clotted  with  gore, 
stood  erect  before'  the  eyes  of  the  spectators.  Upon 
its  head,  with  red  extended  mouth  and  solitary  eye  of 
fire,  sat  the  hideous  beast  whose  craft  had  seduced  me 
into  murder,  and  whose  informing  voice  had  consigned 
me  to  the  hangman.  I  had  walled  the  monster  up 
within  the  tomb. 


187 


The  Spectacles 

NY  years  ago,  it  was  the  fashion  to  ridicule 
the  idea  of  "  love  at  first  sight  "  ;  but  those 
who  think,  not  less  than  those  who  feel 
deeply,  have  always  advocated  its  existence.  Modern 
discoveries,  indeed,  in  what  may  be  termed  ethical 
magnetism  or  magneto-aesthetics,  render  it  probable 
that  the  most  natural,  and,  consequently,  the  truest 
and  most  intense  of  the  human  affections  are  those 
which  arise  in  the  heart  as  if  by  electric  sympathy; 
in  a  word,  that  the  brightest  and  most  enduring  of  the 
psychal  fetters  are  those  which  are  riveted  by  a  glance. 
The  confession  I  am  about  to  make  will  add  another 
to  the  already  almost  innumerable  instances  of  the 
truth  of  the  position. 

My  story  requires  that  I  should  be  somewhat  minute. 
I  am  still  a  very  young  man,  not  yet  twenty-two 
years  of  age.  My  name  at  present  is  a  very  usual  and 
rather  plebeian  one — Simpson.  I  say  "  at  present  "; 
for  it  is  only  lately  that  I  have  been  so  called,  having 


The  Spectacles 

legislatively  adopted  this  surname  within  the  last  year 
in  order  to  receive  a  large  inheritance  left  me  by  a  dis 
tant  male  relative,  Adolphus  Simpson,  Esq.  The  be 
quest  was  conditioned  upon  my  taking  the  name  of 
the  testator — the  family,  not  the  Christian,  name ;  my 
Christian  name  is  Napoleon  Buonaparte,  or,  more 
properly,  these  are  my  first  and  middle  appellations. 

I  assumed  the  name  Simpson  with  some  reluctance, 
as  in  my  true  patronym,  Froissart,  I  felt  a  very  pardon 
able  pride,  believing  that  I  could  trace  a  descent  from 
the  immortal  author  of  the  Chronicles,  While  on 
the  subject  of  names,  by  the  by,  I  may  mention  a 
singular  coincidence  of  sound  attending  the  names  of 
some  of  my  immediate  predecessors.  My  father  was 
a  Monsieur  Froissart  of  Paris.  His  wife — my  mother, 
whom  he  married  at  fifteen,  was  a  Mademoiselle 
Croissart,  eldest  daughter  of  Croissart  the  banker; 
whose  wife,  again,  being  only  sixteen  when  married, 
was  the  eldest  daughter  of  one  Victor  Voissart.  Mon 
sieur  Voissart,  very  singularly,  had  married  a  lady  of 
similar  name — a  Mademoiselle  Moissart.  She,  too. 
was  quite  a  child  when  married ;  and  her  mother,  also, 
Madame  Moissart,  was  only  fourteen  when  led  to  the 
altar.  These  early  marriages  are  usual  in  France. 
Here,  however,  are  Moissart,  Voissart,  Croissart,  and 
Froissart,  all  in  the  direct  line  of  descent.  My  own 
name,  though,  as  I  say,  became  Simpson  by  act  of 
legislature,  and  with  so  much  repugnance  on  my  part, 

189 


The  Spectacles 

that,  at  one  period,  I  actually  hesitated  about  accept 
ing  the  legacy  with  the  useless  and  annoying  proviso 
attached. 

As  to  personal  endowments,  I  am  by  no  means 
deficient.  On  the  contrary,  I  believe  that  I  am  well 
made,  and  possess  what  nine  tenths  of  the  world  would 
call  a  handsome  face.  In  height  I  am  five  feet  eleven. 
My  hair  is  black  and  curling.  My  nose  is  sufficiently 
good.  My  eyes  are  large  and  gray;  and  although,  in 
fact,  they  are  weak  to  a  very  inconvenient  degree, 
still  no  defect  in  this  regard  would  be  suspected  from 
their  appearance.  The  weakness  itself,  however,  has 
always  much  annoyed  me,  and  I  have  resorted  to 
every  remedy,  short  of  wearing  glasses.  Being  youth 
ful  and  good-looking,  I  naturally  dislike  these  and 
have  resolutely  refused  to  employ  them.  I  know 
nothing,  indeed,  which  so  disfigures  the  countenance 
of  a  young  person,  or  so  impresses  every  feature  with 
an  air  of  demureness,  if  not  altogether  of  sanctimoni 
ousness  and  of  age.  An  eye-glass,  on  the  other  hand, 
has  a  savor  of  downright  foppery  and  affectation.  I 
have  hitherto  managed  as  well  as  I  could  without 
either.  But  something  too  much  of  these  merely  per 
sonal  details,  which,  after  all,  are  of  little  importance. 
I  will  content  myself  with  saying,  in  addition,  that  my 
temperament  is  sanguine,  rash,  ardent,  enthusiastic, 
and  that  all  my  life  I  have  been  a  devoted  admirer  of 
the  women. 

190 


The  Spectacles 

One  night  last  winter  I  entered  a  box  at  the  P 

Theatre  in  company  with  a  friend,  Mr.  Talbot.  It  was 
an  opera  night,  and  the  bills  presented  a  very  rare 
attraction,  so  that  the  house  was  excessively  crowded. 
We  were  in  time,  however,  to  obtain  the  front  seats 
which  had  been  reserved  for  us,  and  into  which,  with 
some  little  difficulty,  we  elbowed  our  way. 

For  two  hours  my  companion,  who  was  a  musical 
fanaticof  gave  his  undivided  attention  to  the  stage; 
and,  in  the  meantime,  I  amused  myself  by  observing 
the  audience,  which  consisted,  in  chief  part,  of  the  very 
elite  of  the  city.  Having  satisfied  myself  upon  this 
point,  I  was  about  turning  my  eyes  to  the  prima 
donna,  when  they  were  arrested  and  riveted  by  a 
figure  in  one  of  the  private  boxes  which  had  escaped 
my  observation. 

If  I  live  a  thousand  years  I  can  never  forget  the 
intense  emotion  with  which  I  regarded  this  figure.  It 
was  that  of  a  female,  the  most  exquisite  I  had  ever 
beheld.  The  face  was  so  far  turned  toward  the  stage 
that  for  some  minutes  I  could  not  obtain  a  view  of  it, 
but  the  form  was  divine;  no  other  word  can  suffi 
ciently  express  its  magnificent  proportion,  and  even 
the  term  "  divine  "  seems  ridiculously  feeble  as  I  write 
it. 

The  magic  of  a  lovely  form  in  woman,  the  necro 
mancy  of  female  gracefulness,  was  always  a  power 
which  I  had  found  it  impossible  to  resist ;  but  here  was 

191 


The  Spectacles 

grace  personified,  incarnate,  the  beau  ideal  of  my 
wildest  and  most  enthusiastic  visions.  The  figure, 
almost  all  of  which  the  construction  of  the  box  per 
mitted  to  be  seen,  was  somewhat  above  the  medium 
height  and  nearly  approached,  without  positively 
reaching,  the  majestic.  Its  perfect  fulness  and  tour- 
nure  were  delicious.  The  head,  of  which  only  the 
back  was  visible,  rivalled  in  outline  that  of  the  Greek 
Psyche,  and  was  rather  displayed  than  concealed  by 
an  elegant  cap  of  gaze  aerienne,  which  put  me  in  mind 
of  the  venlum  textilem  of  Apuleius.  The  right  arm 
hung  over  the  balustrade  of  the  box,  and  thrilled  every 
nerve  of  my  frame  with  its  exquisite  symmetry.  Its 
upper  portion  was  draperied  by  one  of  the  loose  open 
sleeves  now  in  fashion.  This  extended  but  little  below 
the  elbow.  Beneath  it  was  worn  an  under  one  of 
some  frail  material,  close-fitting,  and  terminated  by  a 
cuff  of  rich  lace,  which  fell  gracefully  over  the  top  of 
the  hand,  revealing  only  the  delicate  fingers,  upon  one 
of  which  sparkled  a  diamond  ring,  which  I  at  once  saw 
was  of  extraordinary  value.  The  admirable  round 
ness  of  the  wrist  was  well  set  off  by  a  bracelet  which 
encircled  it,  and  which  also  was  ornamented  and 
clasped  by  a  magnificent  aigrette  of  jewels,  telling, 
in  words  that  could  not  be  mistaken,  at  once  of  the 
wealth  and  fastidious  taste  of  the  wearer. 

I  gazed  at  this  queenly  apparition  for  at  least  half  an 
hour,  as  if  I  had  been  suddenly  converted  to  stone ;  ar»d 

192 


The  Spectacles 

during  this  period  I  felt  the  full  force  and  truth  of  all 
that  has  been  said  or  sung  concerning  "  love  at  first 
sight."  My  feelings  were  totally  different  from  any 
which  I  had  hitherto  experienced  in  the  presence  of 
even  the  most  celebrated  specimens  of  female  loveli 
ness.  An  unaccountable,  and  what  I  am  compelled  to 
consider  a  magnetic,  sympathy  of  soul  for  soul,  seemed 
to  rivet,  not  only  my  vision,  but  my  whole  powers  of 
thought  and  feeling,  upon  the  admirable  object  before 
me.  I  saw,  I  felt,  I  knew  that  I  was  deeply,  madly, 
irrevocably  in  love,  and  this  even  before  seeing  the 
face  of  the  person  beloved.  So  intense,  indeed,  was 
the  passion  that  consumed  me,  that  I  really  believe  it 
would  have  received  little  if  any  abatement  had  the 
features,  yet  unseen,  proved  of  merely  ordinary  charac 
ter,  so  anomalous  is  the  nature  of  the  only  true  love, 
of  the  love  at  first  sight,  and  so  little  really  dependent 
is  it  upon  the  external  conditions  which  only  seem  to 
create  and  control  it. 

While  I  was  thus  wrapped  in  admiration  of  this 
lovely  vision,  a  sudden  disturbance  among  the  audience 
Caused  her  to  turn  her  head  partially  toward  me,  so 
ihat  I  beheld  the  entire  profile  of  her  face.  Its  beauty 
«ven  exceeded  my  anticipations,  and  yet  there  was 
something  about  it  which  disappointed  me,  without  my 
being  able  to  tell  exactly  what  it  was.  I  said  "  dis 
appointed,"  but  this  is  not  altogether  the  word.  My 
•sentiments  were  at  once  quieted  and  exalted.  They 

VOL.V.-I3.  j 


The  Spectacles 

partook  less  of  transport  and  more  of  calm  enthusiasm, 
— of  enthusiastic  repose.  This  state  of  feeling  arose, 
perhaps,  from  the  Madonna-like  and  matronly  air  of 
the  face;  and  yet  I  at  once  understood  that  it  could 
not  have  arisen  entirely  from  this.  There  was  some 
thing  else — some  mystery  which  I  could  not  develop, 
some  expression  about  the  countenance  which  slightly 
disturbed  me  while  it  greatly  heightened  my  interest. 
In  fact,  I  was  just  in  that  condition  of  mind  which 
prepares  a  young  and  susceptible  man  for  any  act  of 
extravagance.  Had  the  lady  been  alone,  I  should  un 
doubtedly  have  entered  her  box  and  accosted  her  at  all 
hazards;  but,  fortunately,  she  was  attended  by  two 
companions — a  gentleman  and  a  strikingly  beautiful 
woman,  to  all  appearance  a  few  years  younger  than 
herself. 

I  revolved  in  my  mind  a  thousand  schemes  by  which 
I  might  obtain,  hereafter,  an  introduction  to  the  elder 
lady,  or,  for  the  present,  at  all  events,  a  more  distinct 
view  of  her  beauty.  I  would  have  removed  my  posi 
tion  to  one  nearer  her  own,  but  the  crowded  state  of 
the  theatre  rendered  this  impossible;  and  the  stern 
decrees  of  fashion  had,  of  late,  imperatively  prohibited 
the  use  of  the  opera-glass  in  a  case  such  as  this,  even 
had  I  been  so  fortunate  as  to  have  one  with  me,  but  I 
had  not,  and  was  thus  in  despair. 

At  length  I  bethought  me  of  applying  to  my  com 
panion. 

194 


The  Spectacles 

"  Talbot,"  I  said,  "  you  have  an  opera-glass.  Let 
me  have  it." 

"  An  opera-glass !  no !  what  do  you  suppose  I 
would  be  doing  with  an  opera-glass  ? "  Here  he 
turned  impatiently  toward  the  stage. 

"  But,  Talbot,"  I  continued,  pulling  him  by  the 
shoulder,  "  listen  to  me,  will  you  ?  Do  you  see  the 
stage-box  ? — there! — no,  the  next.  Did  you  ever  be 
hold  as  lovely  a  woman  ?  " 

"  She  is  very  beautiful,  no  doubt,"  he  said. 

"  I  wonder  who  she  can  be  ?  " 

"  Why,  in  the  name  of  all  that  is  angelic,  don't  you 
know  who  she  is  ?  l  Not  to  know  her  argues  yourself 
unknown.'  She  is  the  celebrated  Madame  Lalande, 
the  beauty  of  the  day  par  excellence,  and  the  talk  of 
the  whole  town.  Immensely  wealthy,  too — a  widow, 
and  a  great  match ;  has  just  arrived  from  Paris." 

"  Do  you  know  her  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  have  the  honor." 

"  Will  you  introduce  me  ?  " 

"  Assuredly,  with  the  greatest  pleasure ;  when  shall 
it  be  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,    at    one,   I   will    call    upon   you  at 


"  Very  good ;  and  now  do  hold  your  tongue,  if  you 
can." 

In  this  latter  respect  I  was  forced  to  take  Talbot's 
advice;  for  he  remained  obstinately  deaf  to  every 


The  Spectacles 

further  question  or  suggestion,  and  occupied  himself 
exclusively  for  the  rest  of  the  evening  with  what  was 
transacting  upon  the  stage. 

In  the  meantime  I  kept  my  eyes  riveted  on  Madame 
Lalande,  and  at  length  had  the  good  fortune  to  obtain  a 
full  front  view  of  her  face.  It  was  exquisitely  lovely : 
this,  of  course,  my  heart  had  told  me  before,  even  had 
not  Talbot  fully  satisfied  me  upon  the  point;  but  still 
the  unintelligible  something  disturbed  me.  I  finally 
concluded  that  my  senses  were  impressed  by  a  certain 
air  of  grayity,  sadness,  or,  still  more  properly,  of 
weariness,  which  took  something  from  the  youth  and 
freshness  of  the  countenance,  only  to  endow  it  with  a 
seraphic  tenderness  and  majesty,  and  thus,  of  course, 
to  my  enthusiastic  and  romantic  temperament,  with  an 
interest  tenfold. 

While  I  thus  feasted  my  eyes,  I  perceived  at  last,  to 
my  great  trepidation,  by  an  almost  imperceptible  start 
on  the  part  of  the  lady,  that  she  had  become  suddenly 
aware  of  the  intensity  of  my  gaze.  Still,  I  was  abso 
lutely  fascinated  and  could  not  withdraw  it,  even  for 
an  instant.  She  turned  aside  her  face,  and  again  I 
saw  only  the  chiselled  contour  of  the  back  portion  of 
the  head.  After  some  minutes,  as  if  urged  by  curi 
osity  to  see  if  I  was  still  looking,  she  gradually  brought 
her  face  again  around  and  again  encountered  my  burn 
ing  gaze.  Her  large  dark  eyes  fell  instantly,  and  a 
deep  blush  mantled  her  cheek.  But  what  was  my 

196 


The  Spectacles 

astonishment  at  perceiving  that  she  not  only  did  not 
a  second  time  avert  her  head,  but  that  she  actually 
took  from  her  girdle  a  double  eye-glass,  elevated  it, 
adjusted  it,  and  then  regarded  me  through  it,  intently 
and  deliberately,  for  the  space  of  several  minutes. 

Had  a  thunderbolt  fallen  at  my  feet  I  could  not  have 
been  more  thoroughly  astounded, — astounded  only, 
not  offended  or  disgusted  in  the  slightest  degree;  al 
though  an  action  so  bold  in  any  other  woman  would 
have  been  likely  to  offend  or  disgust.  But  the  whole 
thing  was  done  with  so  much  quietude,  so  much  non 
chalance,  so  much  repose, — with  so  evident  an  air  of 
the  highest  breeding,  in  short,  that  nothing  of  mere 
effrontery  was  perceptible,  and  my  sole  sentiments 
were  those  of  admiration  and  surprise. 

I  observed  that,  upon  her  first  elevation  of  the  glass, 
she  had  seemed  satisfied  with  a  momentary  inspection 
of  my  person,  and  was  withdrawing  the  instrument, 
when,  as  if  struck  by  a  second  thought,  she  resumed 
it,  and  so  continued  to  regard  me  with  fixed  attention 
for  the  space  of  several  minutes — for  five  minutes,  at 
the  very  least,  I  am  sure. 

This  action,  so  remarkable  in  an  American  theatre, 
attracted  very  general  observation  and  gave  rise  to  an 
indefinite  movement,  or  buzz,  among  the  audience, 
which  for  a  moment  filled  me  with  confusion,  but 
produced  no  visible  effect  upon  the  countenance  of 
Madame  Lalande. 

197 


The  Spectacles 

Having  satisfied  her  curiosity,  if  such  it  was,  she 
dropped  the  glass  and  quietly  gave  her  attention  again 
to  the  stage,  her  profile  now  being  turned  toward 
myself,  as  before.  I  continued  to  watch  her  unre 
mittingly,  although  I  was  fully  conscious  of  my  rude 
ness  in  so  doing.  Presently  I  saw  the  head  slowly  and 
slightly  change  its  position;  and  soon  I  became  con 
vinced  that  the  lady,  while  pretending  to  look  at  the 
stage,  was,  in  fact,  attentively  regarding  myself.  It  is 
needless  to  say  what  effect  this  conduct,  on  the  part  of 
so  fascinating  a  woman,  had  upon  my  excitable  mind. 

Having  thus  scrutinized  me  for  perhaps  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  the  fair  object  of  my  passion  addressed  the 
gentleman  who  attended  her,  and,  while  she  spoke,  I 
saw  distinctly,  by  the  glances  of  both,  that  the  con 
versation  had  reference  to  myself. 

Upon  its  conclusion  Madame  Lalande  again  turned 
toward  the  stage,  and,  for  a  few  minutes,  seemed  ab 
sorbed  in  the  performances.  At  the  expiration  of  this 
period,  however,  I  was  thrown  into  an  extremity  of 
agitation  by  seeing  her  unfold,  for  the  second  time, 
the  eye-glass  which  hung  at  her  side,  fully  confront 
me  as  before,  and,  disregarding  the  renewed  buzz  of 
the  audience,  survey  me,  from  head  to  foot,  with  the 
same  miraculous  composure  which  had  previously 
so  delighted  and  confounded  my  soul. 

This  extraordinary  behavior,  by  throwing  me  into  a 
perfect  fever  of  excitement,  into  an  absolute  delirium 

198 


The  Spectacles 

of  love,  served  rather  to  embolden  than  to  disconcert 
me.  In  the  mad  intensity  of  my  devotion,  I  forgot 
everything  but  the  presence  and  the  majestic  loveli 
ness  of  the  vision  which  confronted  my  gaze.  Watch 
ing  my  opportunity,  when  I  thought  the  audience  were 
fully  engaged  with  the  opera,  I  at  length  caught  the 
eyes  of  Madame  Lalande,  and,  upon  the  instant,  made 
a  slight  but  unmistakable  bow. 

She  blushed  very  deeply,  then  averted  her  eyes,  then 
slowly  and  cautiously  looked  around,  apparently  to  see 
if  my  rash  action  had  been  noticed,  then  leaned  over 
toward  the  gentleman  who  sat  by  her  side. 

I  now  felt  a  burning  sense  of  the  impropriety  I  had 
committed,  and  expected  nothing  less  than  instant  ex 
posure;  while  a  vision  of  pistols  upon  the  morrow 
floated  rapidly  and  uncomfortably  through  my  brain. 
I  was  greatly  and  immediately  relieved,  however,  when 
I  saw  the  lady  merely  hand  the  gentleman  a  play-bill, 
without  speaking;  but  the  reader  may  form  some 
feeble  conception  of  my  astonishment — of  my  pro 
found  amazement — my  delirious  bewilderment  of 
heart  and  soul,  when,  instantly  afterward,  having  again 
glanced  furtively  around,  she  allowed  her  bright  eyes 
to  set  fully  and  steadily  upon  my  own,  and  then,  with 
a  faint  smile,  disclosing  a  bright  line  of  her  pearly 
teeth,  made  two  distinct,  pointed,  and  unequivocal 
affirmative  inclinations  of  the  head. 

It  is  useless,  of  course,  to  dwell  upon  my  joy,  upon 
199 


The  Spectacles 

my  transport,  upon  my  illimitable  ecstasy  of  heart. 
If  ever  man  was  mad  with  excess  of  happiness,  it  was 
myself  at  that  moment.  I  loved.  This  was  my  first 
love — so  I  felt  it  to  be.  It  was  love  supreme,  inde 
scribable.  It  was  "  love  at  first  sight  "  ;  and  at  first 
sight,  too,  it  had  been  appreciated  and  returned. 

Yes,  returned.  How  and  why  should  I  doubt  it  for 
an  instant  ?  What  other  construction  could  I  possibly 
put  upon  such  conduct  on  the  part  of  a  lady  so  beauti 
ful,  so  wealthy,  evidently  so  accomplished,  of  so  high 
breeding,  of  so  lofty  a  position  in  society,  in  every 
regard  so  entirely  respectable  as  I  felt  assured  was 
Madame  Lalande  ?  Yes,  she  loved  me,  she  returned 
the  enthusiasm  of  my  love  with  an  enthusiasm  as  blind, 
as  uncompromising,  as  uncalculating,  as  abandoned, 
and  as  utterly  unbounded  as  my  own !  These  delicious 
fancies  and  reflections,  however,  were  now  interrupted 
by  the  falling  of  the  drop-curtain.  The  audience 
arose ;  and  the  usual  tumult  immediately  supervened. 
Quitting  Talbot  abruptly,  I  made  every  effort  to  force 
my  way  into  closer  proximity  with  Madame  Lalande. 
Having  failed  in  this,  on  account  of  the  crowd,  I  at 
length  gave  up  the  chase  and  bent  my  steps  homeward ; 
consoling  myself  for  my  disappointment  in  not  having 
been  able  to  touch  even  the  hem  of  her  robe,  by  the 
reflection  that  I  should  be  introduced  by  Talbot,  in  due 
form,  upon  the  morrow. 

This  morrow  at  last   came;   that  is  to  say,  a  day 

200 


The  Spectacles 

finally  dawned  upon  a  long  and  weary  night  of  im 
patience,  and  then  the  hours  until  "  one "  were 
snail-paced,  dreary,  and  innumerable.  But  even 
Stamboul,  it  is  said,  shall  have  an  end,  and  there  came 
an  end  to  this  long  delay.  The  clock  struck.  As  the 

last  echo  ceased,  I  stepped  into  B 's  and  inquired 

for  Talbot. 

"  Out,"  said  the  footman,  Talbot's  own. 

"  Out !  "  I  replied,  staggering  back  half  a  dozen 
paces ;  "  let  me  tell  you,  my  fine  fellow,  that  this  thing 
is  thoroughly  impossible  and  impracticable;  Mr.  Tal 
bot  is  not  out.  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  sir ;  only  Mr.  Talbot  is  not  in.  That 's 
all.  He  rode  over  to  S immediately  after  break 
fast,  and  left  word  that  he  would  not  be  in  town  again 
for  a  week." 

I  stood  petrified  with  horror  and  rage.  I  endeav 
ored  to  reply,  but  my  tongue  refused  its  office.  At 
length  I  turned  on  my  heel,  livid  with  wrath,  and  in 
wardly  consigning  the  whole  tribe  of  the  Talbots  to  the 
innermost  regions  of  Erebus.  It  was  evident  that  my 
considerate  friend,  //  fanatico,  had  quite  forgotten  his 
appointment  with  myself — had  forgotten  it  as  soon  as 
it  was  made.  At  no  time  was  he  a  very  scrupulous 
man  of  his  word.  There  was  no  help  for  it ;  so,  smoth 
ering  my  vexation  as  well  as  I  could,  I  strolled  moodily 
up  the  street,  propounding  futile  inquiries  about 
Madame  Lalande  to  every  male  acquaintance  I  met. 

2OI 


The  Spectacles 

By  report  she  was  known,  I  found,  to  all, — to  many  by 
sight ;  but  she  had  been  in  town  only  a  few  weeks,  and 
there  were  very  few,  therefore,  who  claimed  her  per 
sonal  acquaintance.  These  few,  being  still  compara 
tively  strangers,  could  not,  or  would  not,  take  the 
liberty  of  introducing  me  through  the  formality  of  a 
morning  call.  While  I  stood  thus,  in  despair,  con 
versing  with  a  trio  of  friends  upon  the  all-absorbing 
subject  of  my  heart,  it  so  happened  that  the  subject 
itself  passed  by. 

"  As  I  live,  there  she  is !  "  cried  one. 

"  Surprisingly  beautiful !  "  exclaimed  a  second. 

"  An  angel  upon  earth !  "  ejaculated  a  third. 

I  looked ;  and  in  an  open  carriage  which  approached 
us,  passing  slowly  down  the  street,  sat  the  enchanting 
vision  of  the  opera,  accompanied  by  the  younger  lady 
who  had  occupied  a  portion  of  her  box. 

"  Her  companion  also  wears  remarkably  well,"  said 
the  one  of  my  trio  who  had  spoken  first. 

"  Astonishingly,"  said  the  second ;  "  still  quite  a 
brilliant  air ;  but  art  will  do  wonders.  Upon  my  wordy 
she  looks  better  than  she  did  at  Paris  five  years  ago, 
A  beautiful  woman  still; — don't  you  think  so,  Frois- 
sart  ? — Simpson,  I  mean." 

"  Still!  "  said  I,  "  and  why  should  n't  she  be  ?  But 
compared  with  her  friend  she  is  as  a  rushlight  to  the 
evening  star,  a  glow-worm  to  Antares." 

"Ha!  ha!  ha! — why,  Simpson,  you  have  an  aston- 

202 


The  Spectacles* 

ishing  tact  at  making  discoveries — original  ones,  I 
mean."  And  here  we  separated,  while  one  of  the  trio 
began  humming  a  gay  vaudeville,  of  which  I  caught 
only  the  lines — 

Ninon,  Ninon,  Ninon  a  bas — 
A  bas  Ninon  De  L'  Enclos ! 

During  this  little  scene,  however,  one  thing  had 
served  greatly  to  console  me,  although  it  fed  the  passion 
by  which  I  was  consumed.  As  the  carriage  of  Madame 
Lalande  rolled  by  our  group,  I  had  observed  that  she 
recognized  me;  and,  more  than  this,  she  had  blessed 
me  by  the  most  seraphic  of  all  imaginable  smiles,  with 
no  equivocal  mark  of  the  recognition. 

As  for  an  introduction,  I  was  obliged  to  abandon  all 
hope  of  it,  until  such  time  as  Talbot  should  think 
proper  to  return  from  the  country.  In  the  meantime 
I  perseveringly  frequented  every  reputable  place  of 
public  amusement;  and  at  length,  at  the  theatre 
where  I  first  saw  her,  I  had  the  supreme  bliss  of  meet 
ing  her,  and  of  exchanging  glances  with  her  once  again. 
This  did  not  occur,  however,  until  the  lapse  of  a  fort 
night.  Every  day,  in  the  interim,  I  had  inquired  for 
Talbot  at  his  hotel,  and  every  day  had  been  thrown 
into  a  spasm  of  wrath  by  the  everlasting  "  Not  come 
home  yet  "  of  his  footman. 

Upon  the  evening  in  question,  therefore,  I  was  in  a 
j  condition  little  short  of  madness.  Madame  Lalande,  I 

203 


The  Spectacles 

—————— ^  . 

had  been  told,  was  a  Parisian ;  had  lately  arrived  from 
Paris — might  she  not  suddenly  return  ? — return  before 
Talbot  came  back,  and  might  she  not  be  thus  lost  to 
me  forever  ?  The  thought  was  too  terrible  to  bear. 
Since  my  future  happiness  was  at  issue,  I  resolved  to 
act  with  a  manly  decision.  In  a  word,  upon  the 
breaking  up  of  the  play,  I  traced  the  lady  to  her  resi 
dence,  noted  the  address,  and  the  next  morning  sent 
her  a  full  and  elaborate  letter,  in  which  I  poured  out 
my  whole  heart. 

I  spoke  boldly,  freely;  in  a  word,  I  spoke  with  pas 
sion.  I  concealed  nothing — np thing  even  of  my  weak 
ness.  I  alluded  to  the  romantic  circumstances  of  our 
first  meeting,  even  to  the  glances  which  had  passed 
between  us.  I  went  so  far  as  to  say  that  I  felt  assured 
of  her  love ;  while  I  offered  this  assurance  and  my  own 
intensity  of  devotion  as  two  excuses  for  my  otherwise 
unpardonable  conduct.  As  a  third,  I  spoke  of  my  fear 
that  she  might  quit  the  city  before  I  could  have  the 
opportunity  of  a  formal  introduction.  I  concluded  the 
most  wildly  enthusiastic  epistle  ever  penned,  with  a 
frank  declaration  of  my  worldly  circumstances, — of  my 
affluence, — and  with  an  offer  of  my  heart  and  of  my 
hand. 

In  an  agony  of  expectation  I  awaited  the  reply. 
After  what  seemed  the  lapse  of  a  century  it  came. 

Yes,  actually  came.  Romantic  as  all  this  may 
appear,  I  really  received  a  letter  from  Madame  Lalande 

204 


The  Spectacles 

— the  beautiful,  the  wealthy,  the  idolized  Madame 
Lalande.  Her  eyes — her  magnificent  eyes — had  not 
belied  her  noble  heart.  Like  a  true  Frenchwoman,  as 
she  was,  she  had  obeyed  the  frank  dictates  of  her 
reason — the  generous  impulses  of  her  nature,  despis 
ing  the  conventional  pruderies  of  the  world.  She  had 
not  scorned  my  proposals.  She  had  not  sheltered 
herself  in  silence.  She  had  not  returned  my  letter 
unopened.  She  had  even  sent  me  in  reply  one  penned 
by  her  own  exquisite  fingers.  It  ran  thus : 

"  Monsieur  Simpson  vill  pardonne  me  for  not  compose  de 
butefulle  tong  of  his  contree  so  veil  as  might.  It  is  only  de 
late  dat  I  am  arrive,  and  not  yet  ave  de  opportunite  for  to — • 
1'etudier. 

"  Vid  dis  apologie  for  the  maniere,  I  vill  now  say  dat,  helas ! 
• — Monsieur  Simpson  ave  guess  but  de  too  true.  Need  I  say  de 
more?  Helas!  am  I  not  ready  speak  de  too  moshe? 

"  EUGENIE  LALANDE." 

This  noble-spirited  note  I  kissed  a  million  times,  and 
committed,  no  doubt,  on  its  account,  a  thousand  other 
extravagances  that  have  now  escaped  my  memory. 
Still  Talbot  would  not  return.  Alas!  could  he  have 
formed  even  the  vaguest  idea  of  the  suffering  his 
absence  had  occasioned  his  friend,  would  not  his  sym 
pathizing  nature  have  flown  immediately  to  my  relief? 
Still,  however,  he  came  not.  I  wrote.  He  replied. 
He  was  detained  by  urgent  business,  but  would  shortly 

return.     He  begged  me  not  to  be  impatient,  to  moderate 

205 


The  Spectacles 

my  transports,  to  read  soothing  books,  to  drink 
nothing  stronger  than  Hock,  and  to  bring  the  con 
solations  of  philosophy  to  my  aid.  The  fool!  if  he 
could  not  come  himself,  why,  in  the  name  of  every 
thing  rational,  could  he  not  have  enclosed  me  a  letter 
of  presentation  ?  I  wrote  him  again,  entreating  him 
to  forward  one  forthwith.  My  letter  was  returned  by 
that  footman,  with  the  following  endorsement  in  pen 
cil.  The  scoundrel  had  joined  his  master  in  the 
country : 

"  Left   S yesterday   for  parts  unknown — did  not   say 

where — or  when  be  back — so  thought  best  to  return  letter, 
knowing  your  handwriting,  and  as  how  you  is  always,  mor* 
or  less,  in  a  hurry. 

"  Yours  sincerely, 

"  STUBBS." 

After  this,  it  is  needless  to  say  that  I  devoted  to  the 
infernal  deities  both  master  and  valet ;  but  there  was 
little  use  in  anger,  and  no  consolation  at  all  in  com 
plaint. 

But  I  had  yet  a  resource  left  in  my  constitutional 
audacity.  Hitherto  it  had  served  me  well,  and  I  now 
resolved  to  make  it  avail  me  to  the  end.  Besides, 
after  the  correspondence  which  had  passed  between  us, 
what  act  of  mere  informality  could  I  commit,  within 
bounds,  that  ought  to  be  regarded  as  indecorous  by 
Madame  Lalande  ?  Since  the  affair  of  the  letter,  I 
had  been  in  the  habit  of  watching  her  house,  and  thus 

206 


The  Spectacles 

discovered  that,  about  twilight,  it  was  her  custom  to 
promenade,  attended  only  by  a  negro  in  livery,  in  a 
public  square  overlooked  by  her  windows.  Here, 
amid  the  luxuriant  and  shadowing  groves,  in  the  gray 
gloom  of  a  sweet  midsummer  evening,  I  observed  my 
opportunity  and  accosted  her. 

The  better  to  deceive  the  servant  in  attendance,  I  did 
this  with  the  assured  air  of  an  old  and  familiar  ac 
quaintance.  With  a  presence  of  mind  truly  Parisian, 
she  took  the  cue  at  once,  and,  to  greet  me,  held  out  the 
most  bewitchingly  of  little  hands.  The  valet  at  once  fell 
into  the  rear;  and  now,  with  hearts  full  to  overflow 
ing,  we  discoursed  long  and  unreservedly  of  our  love. 

As  Madame  Lalande  spoke  English  even  less  fluently 
than  she  wrote  it,  our  conversation  was  necessarily  in 
French.  In  this  sweet  tongue,  so  adapted  to  passion, 
I  gave  loose  to  the  impetuous  enthusiasm  of  my  nature, 
and,  with  all  the  eloquence  I  could  command,  besought 
her  to  consent  to  an  immediate  marriage. 

At  this  impatience  she  smiled.  She  urged  the  old 
story  of  decorum,  that  bugbear  which  deters  so  many 
from  bliss  until  the  opportunity  for  bliss  has  forever 
gone  by.  I  had  most  imprudently  made  it  known 
among  my  friends,  she  observed,  that  I  desired  her 
acquaintance — thus  that  I  did  not  possess  it;  thus, 
again,  there  was  no  possibility  of  concealing  the  date 
of  our  first  knowledge  of  each  other.  And  then  she 
adverted,  with  a  blush,  to  the  extreme  recency  of  this 

207 


The  Spectacles 

date.  To  wed  immediately  would  be  improper,  would 
be  indecorous,  would  be  outre,  All  this  she  said  with 
a  charming  air  of  naivete*  which  enraptured  while  it 
grieved  and  convinced  me.  She  went  even  so  far  as  to 
accuse  me,  laughingly,  of  rashness — of  imprudence. 
She  bade  me  remember  that  I  really  even  knew  not 
who  she  was :  what  were  her  prospects,  her  connections, 
her  standing  in  society.  She  begged  me,  but  with  a 
sigh,  to  reconsider  my  proposal,  and  termed  my  love 
an  infatuation,  a  will  oj  the  wisp,  a  fancy  or  fantasy 
of  the  moment,  a  baseless  and  unstable  creation  rather 
of  the  imagination  than  of  the  heart.  These  things 
she  uttered  as  the  shadows  of  the  sweet  twilight  gath 
ered  darkly  and  more  darkly  around  us — and  then, 
with  a  gentle  pressure  of  her  fairy-like  hand,  over 
threw,  in  a  single  sweet  instant,  all  the  argumentative 
fabric  she  had  reared. 

I  replied  as  best  I  could — as  only  a  true  lover  can, 
I  spoke  at  length  and  perseveringly  of  my  devotion,  of 
my  passion,  of  her  exceeding  beauty,  and  of  my  own 
enthusiastic  admiration.  In  conclusion,  I  dwelt,  with 
a  convincing  energy,  upon  the  perils  that  encompass 
the  course  of  love, — that  course  of  true  love  that 
never  did  run  smooth, — and  thus  deduced  the  manifest 
danger  of  rendering  that  course  unnecessarily  long. 

This  latter  argument  seemed  finally  to  soften  the 
rigor  of  her  determination.  She  relented;  but  there 
was  yet  an  obstacle,  she  said,  which  she  felt  assured  I 

208 


The  Spectacles 

had  not  properly  considered.  This  was  a  delicate 
point — for  a  woman  to  urge,  especially  so;  in  men- 
tioning  it,  she  saw  that  she  must  make  a  sacrifice  of 
her  feelings;  still,  for  me,  every  sacrifice  should  be 
made.  She  alluded  to  the  topic  of  age.  Was  I  aware 
- — was  I  fully  aware  of  the  discrepancy  between  us  ? 
That  the  age  of  the  husband  should  surpass  by  a  few 
years — even  by  fifteen  or  twenty — the  age  of  the  wife, 
was  regarded  by  the  world  as  admissible,  and,  indeed, 
as  even  proper;  but  she  had  always  entertained  the 
belief  that  the  years  of  the  wife  should  never  exceed 
in  number  those  of  the  husband.  A  discrepancy  of 
this  unnatural  kind  gave  rise,  too  frequently,  alas!  to 
a  life  of  unhappiness.  Now  she  was  aware  that  my 
own  age  did  not  exceed  two-and-twenty;  and  I,  on  the 
contrary,  perhaps,  was  not  aware  that  the  years  of  my 
Eugenie  extended  very  considerably  beyond  that  sum, 

About  all  this  there  was  a  nobility  of  soul,  a  dignity 
of  candor,  which  delighted,  which  enchanted  me,  which 
eternally  riveted  my  chains.  I  could  scarcely  restrain 
the  excessive  transport  which  possessed  me. 

"  My  sweetest  Eugenie,"  I  cried,  "  what  is  all  this 
about  which  you  are  discoursing  ?  Your  years  sur 
pass  in  some  measure  my  own.  But  what  then  ?  The 
customs  of  the  world  are  so  many  conventional  follies. 
To  those  who  love  as  ourselves,  in  what  respect  differs 
a  year  from  an  hour  ?  I  am  twenty-two,  you  say ; 
granted:  indeed,  you  may  as  well  call  me,  at  once, 
VOL.  v.— 14.  200 


The  Spectacles 

twenty-three.  Now  you  yourself,  my  dearest  Euge*nie, 
can  have  numbered  no  more  than — can  have  num 
bered  no  more  than — no  more  than — than — than — 
than " 

Here  I  paused  for  an  instant  in  the  expectation  that 
Madame  Lalande  would  interrupt  me  by  supplying  her 
true  age.  But  a  Frenchwoman  is  seldom  direct,  and 
has  always,  by  way  of  answer  to  an  embarrassing 
query,  some  little  practical  reply  of  her  own.  In  the 
present  instance,  Eugenie,  who  for  a  few  moments 
past  had  seemed  to  be  searching  for  something  in  her 
bosom,  at  length  let  fall  upon  the  grass  a  miniature, 
which  I  immediately  picked  up  and  presented  to  her. 

"  Keep  it !  "  she  said,  with  one  of  her  most  ravishing 
smiles.  "  Keep  it  for  my  sake,  for  the  sake  of  her 
whom  it  too  flatteringly  represents.  Besides,  upon  the 
back  of  the  trinket  you  may  discover,  perhaps,  the  very 
information  you  seem  to  desire.  It  is  now,  to  be 
sure,  growing  rather  dark,  but  you  can  examine  it  at 
your  leisure  in  the  morning.  In  the  meantime,  you 
shall  be  my  escort  home  to-night.  My  friends  are 
about  holding  a  little  musical  levee,  I  can  promise 
you,  too,  some  good  singing.  We  French  are  not 
nearly  so  punctilious  as  you  Americans,  and  I  shall 
have  no  difficulty  in  smuggling  you  in,  in  the  character 
of  an  old  acquaintance." 

With  this,  she  took  my  arm,  and  I  attended  her 
home  The  mansion  was  quite  a  fine  one,  and,  I  be- 

210 


The  Spectacles 

lieve,  furnished  in  good  taste.  Of  this  latter  point, 
however,  I  am  scarcely  qualified  to  judge ;  for  it  was 
just  dark  as  we  arrived;  and  in  American  mansions 
of  the  better  sort  lights  seldom,  during  the  heat  of 
summer,  make  their  appearance  at  this,  the  most 
pleasant  period  of  the  day.  In  about  an  hour  after 
my  arrival,  to  be  sure,  a  single  shaded  solar  lamp  was 
lit  in  the  principal  drawing-room ;  and  this  apartment, 
I  could  thus  see,  was  arranged  with  unusual  good 
taste  and  even  splendor;  but  two  other  rooms  of  the 
suite,  and  in  which  the  company  chiefly  assembled, 
remained,  during  the  whole  evening,  in  a  very  agree 
able  shadow.  This  is  a  well-conceived  custom,  giving 
the  party  at  least  a  choice  of  light  or  shade,  and  one 
which  our  friends  over  the  water  could  not  do  better 
than  immediately  adopt. 

The  evening  thus  spent  was  unquestionably  the  most 
delicious  of  my  life.  Madame  Lalande  had  not  over 
rated  the  musical  abilities  of  her  friends ;  and  the  sing 
ing  I  here  heard  I  had  never  heard  excelled  in  any 
private  circle  out  of  Vienna.  The  instrumental  per 
formers  were  many  and  of  superior  talents.  The 
vocalists  were  chiefly  ladies,  and  no  individual  sang 
less  than  well.  At  length,  upon  a  peremptory  call  for 
"  Madame  Lalande,"  she  arose  at  once,  without  affec 
tation  or  demur,  from  the  chaise  longue  upon  which 
she  had  sat  by  my  side,  and,  accompanied  by  one  or 
two  gentlemen  and  her  female  friend  of  the  opera, 

211 


The  Spectacles 

repaired  to  the  piano  in  the  main  drawing-room.  I 
would  have  escorted  her  myself,  but  felt  that,  under 
the  circumstances  of  my  introduction  to  the  house,  I 
had  better  remain  unobserved  where  I  was.  I  was 
thus  deprived  of  the  pleasure  of  seeing,  although  not 
of  hearing,  her  sing. 

The  impression  she  produced  upon  the  company 
seemed  electrical,  but  the  effect  upon  myself  was  some 
thing  even  more.  I  know  not  how  adequately  to 
describe  it.  It  arose  in  part,  no  doubt,  from  the  senti 
ment  of  love  with  which  I  was  imbued;  but  chiefly 
from  my  conviction  of  the  extreme  sensibility  of  the 
singer.  It  is  beyond  the  reach  of  art  to  endow  either 
air  or  recitative  with  more  impassioned  expression  than 
was  hers.  Her  utterance  of  the  romance  in  Ote//o— 
the  tone  with  which  she  gave  the  words,  "  Sul  mio 
sasso/'m  the  Capuletit — is  ringing  in  my  memory  yet. 
Her  lower  tones  were  absolutely  miraculous.  Her 
voice  embraced  three  complete  octaves,  extending 
from  the  contralto  D  to  the  D  upper  soprano,  and, 
though  sufficiently  powerful  to  have  filled  the  San 
Carlos,  executed,  with  the  minutest  precision,  every 
difficulty  of  vocal  composition — ascending  and  descend 
ing  scales,  cadences,  or  fioriturL  In  the  finale  of  the 
Sonnambula/  she  brought  about  a  most  remarkable 
effect  at  the  words : 

Ah !  non  guinge  uman  pensiero 
Al  contento  ond  'io  son  piena. 
212 


The  Spectacles 

Here,  in  imitation  of  Malibran,  she  modified  the 
original  phrase  of  Bellini,  so  as  to  let  her  voice  descend 
to  the  tenor  G,  when,  by  a  rapid  transition,  she  struck 
the  G  above  the  treble  stave,  springing  over  an  interval 
of  two  octaves. 

Upon  rising  from  the  piano  after  these  miracles  of 
vocal  execution,  she  resumed  her  seat  by  my  side ;  when 
I  expressed  to  her,  in  terms  of  the  deepest  enthusiasm, 
my  delight  at  her  performance.  Of  my  surprise  I  said 
nothing,  and  yet  was  I  most  unf eignedly  surprised ;  for 
a  certain  feebleness,  or  rather  a  certain  tremulous  in 
decision  of  voice  in  ordinary  conversation,  had  pre 
pared  me  to  anticipate  that,  in  singing,  she  would  not 
acquit  herself  with  any  remarkable  ability. 

Our  conversation  was  now  long,  earnest,  uninter 
rupted,  and  totally  unreserved.  She  made  me  relate 
many  of  the  earlier  passages  of  my  life,  and  listened 
with  breathless  attention  to  every  word  of  the  narrative. 
I  concealed  nothing — felt  that  I  had  a  right  to  conceal 
nothing — from  her  confiding  affection.  Encouraged 
by  her  candor  upon  the  delicate  point  of  her  age,  I 
entered,  with  perfect  frankness,  not  only  into  a  detail 
of  my  many  minor  vices,  but  made  full  confession  of 
those  moral  and  even  of  those  physical  infirmities,  the 
(Jisclosure  of  which,  in  demanding  so  much  higher  a 
degree  of  courage,  is  so  much  surer  an  evidence  of  love. 
I  touched  upon  my  college  indiscretions,  upon  my  ex 
travagances,  upon  my  carousals,  upon  my  debts,  upon 

213 


The  Spectacles 

my  flirtations.  I  even  went  so  far  as  to  speak  of  a 
slightly  hectic  cough  with  which,  at  one  time,  I  had 
been  troubled;  of  a  chronic  rheumatism,  of  a  twinge 
of  hereditary  gout,  and,  in  conclusion,  of  the  disagree 
able  and  inconvenient,  but  hitherto  carefully  concealed 
weakness  of  my  eyes. 

"  Upon  this  latter  point,"  said  Madame  Lalande, 
laughingly,  "  you  have  been  surely  injudicious  in  com 
ing  to  confession;  for,  without  the  confession,  I  take 
it  for  granted  that  no  one  would  have  accused  you  of 
the  crime.  By  the  by,"  she  continued,  "  have  you 
any  recollection," — and  here  I  fancied  that  a  blush, 
even  through  the  gloom  of  the  apartment,  became  dis 
tinctly  visible  upon  her  cheek, — "  have  you  any  recol 
lection,  mon  cher  ami,  of  this  little  ocular  assistant 
which  now  depends  from  my  neck  ?  " 

As  she  spoke  she  twirled  in  her  fingers  the  identical 
double  eye-glass  which  had  so  overwhelmed  me  with 
confusion  at  the  opera. 

"  Full  well — alas !  do  I  remember  it,"  I  exclaimed, 
pressing  passionately  the  delicate  hand  which  offered 
the  glasses  for  my  inspection.  They  formed  a  com 
plex  and  magnificent  toy,  richly  chased  and  filigreed, 
and  gleaming  with  jewels,  which,  even  in  the  deficient 
light,  I  could  not  help  perceiving  were  of  high  value. 

"  Eh  bien  I  mon  ami  !  "  she  resumed  with  a  certain 
empressment  of  manner  that  rather  surprised  me — 
"Eh  bien  I  mon  amlf  you  have  earnestly  besought  of 

214 


The  Spectacles 

me  a  favor  which  you  have  been  pleased  to  denominate 
priceless.  You  have  demanded  of  me  my  hand  upon 
the  morrow.  Should  I  yield  to  your  entreaties,  and, 
I  may  add,  to  the  pleadings  of  my  own  bosom,  would 
I  not  be  entitled  to  demand  of  you  a  very — a  very  little 
boon  in  return  ?  " 

"  Name  it!  "  I  exclaimed  with  an  energy  that  had 
nearly  drawn  upon  us  the  observation  of  the  company, 
and  restrained  by  their  presence  alone  from  throwing 
myself  impetuously  at  her  feet.  "  Name  it,  my  be 
loved,  my  Eugenie,  my  own!  name  it! — but,  alas!  it  is 
already  yielded  ere  named." 

"  You  shall  conquer,  then,  mon  ami,"  said  she,  "  for 
the  sake  of  the  Eugenie  whom  you  love,  this  little 
weakness  which  you  have  at  last  confessed — this  weak 
ness  more  moral  than  physical,  and  which,  let  me 
assure  you,  is  so  unbecoming  the  nobility  of  your  real 
nature,  so  inconsistent  with  the  candor  of  your  usual 
character,  and  which,  if  permitted  further  control,  will 
assuredly  involve  you,  sooner  or  later,  in  some  very 
disagreeable  scrape.  You  shall  conquer,  for  my  sake, 
this  affectation  which  leads  you,  as  you  yourself  ac 
knowledge,  to  the  tacit  or  implied  denial  of  your  in 
firmity  of  vision.  For  this  infirmity  you  virtually  deny 
in  refusing  to  employ  the  customary  means  for  its 
relief.  You  will  understand  me  to  say,  then,  that  I 
wish  you  to  wear  spectacles: — ah,  hush! — you  have 
already  consented  to  wear  them,  for  my  sake.  You 

215 


The  Spectacles 

shall  accept  the  little  toy  which  I  now  hold  in  my  hand, 
and  which,  though  admirable  as  an  aid  to  vision,  is 
really  of  no  very  immense  value  as  a  gem.  You  per 
ceive,  that,  by  a  trifling  modification — thus,  or  thus 
— it  can  be  adapted  to  the  eyes  in  the  form  of  spec 
tacles,  or  worn  in  the  waistcoat  pocket  as  an  eye-glass. 
It  is  in  the  former  mode,  however,  and  habitually,  that 
you  have  already  consented  to  wear  it  for  my  sake." 

This  request — must  I  confess  it  ? — confused  me  in 
no  little  degree.  But  the  condition  with  which  it  was 
coupled  rendered  hesitation,  of  course,  a  matter  alto 
gether  out  of  the  question. 

"  It  is  done !  "  I  cried,  with  all  the  enthusiasm  that  I 
could  muster  at  the  moment.  "  It  is  done — it  is  most 
cheerfully  agreed.  I  sacrifice  every  feeling  for  your, 
sake.  To-night  I  wear  this  dear  eye-glass,  as  an  eye 
glass,  and  upon  my  heart ;  but  with  the  earliest  dawn 
of  that  morning  which  gives  me  the  pleasure  of  calling 
you  wife,  I  will  place  it  upon  my — upon  my  nose,  and 
there  wear  it  ever  afterward,  in  the  less  romantic  and 
less  fashionable,  but  certainly  in  the  more  serviceable 
form  which  you  desire." 

Our  conversation  now  turned  upon  the  details  of  our 
arrangements  for  the  morrow.  Talbot,  I  learned  from 
my  betrothed,  had  just  arrived  in  town.  I  was  to  see 
him  at  once  and  procure  a  carriage.  The  soiree  would 
scarcely  break  up  before  two;  and  by  this  hour  the 
vehicle  was  to  be  at  the  door,  when,  in  the  confusion 

216 


The  Spectacles 

occasioned  by  the  departure  of  the  company,  Madame 
L.  could  easily  enter  it  unobserved.  We  were  then  to 
call  at  the  house  of  a  clergyman  who  would  be  in  wait 
ing;  there  be  married,  drop  Talbot,  and  proceed  on  a 
short  tour  to  the  East;  leaving  the  fashionable  world 
at  home  to  make  whatever  comments  upon  the  matter 
it  thought  best. 

Having  planned  all  this,  I  immediately  took  leave, 
and  went  in  search  of  Talbot,  but,  on  the  way,  I  could 
not  refrain  from  stepping  into  a  hotel  for  the  purpose 
of  inspecting  the  miniature;  and  this  I  did  by  the 
powerful  aid  of  the  glasses.  The  countenance  was  a 
surpassingly  beautiful  one!  Those  large  luminous 
eyes! — that  proud  Grecian  nose! — those  dark  luxuri 
ant  curls! — "  Ah!  "  said  I,  exultingly  to  myself,  "  this 
is  indeed  the  speaking  image  of  my  beloved!  "  I 
turned  the  reverse  and  discovered  the  words,  "  Eugenie 
Lalande — aged  twenty-seven  years  and  seven  months." 

I  found  Talbot  at  home  and  proceeded  at  once  to 
acquaint  him  with  my  good  fortune.  He  professed 
excessive  astonishment,  of  course,  but  congratulated 
me  most  cordially  and  proffered  every  assistance  in  his 
power.  In  a  word,  we  carried  out  our  arrangement  to 
the  letter;  and  at  two  in  the  morning,  just  ten  min 
utes  after  the  ceremony,  I  found  myself  in  a  close 
carriage  with  Madame  Lalande, — with  Mrs.  Simpson,  I 
should  say, — and  driving  at  a  great  rate  out  of  town,  in 
a  direction  northeast  by  north,  half-north. 

217 


The  Spectacles 

It  had  been  determined  for  us  by  Talbot,  that,  as  we 
were  to  be  up  all  night,  we  should  make  our  first  stop 

at  C ,  a  village  about  twenty  miles  from  the  city, 

and  there  get  an  early  breakfast  and  some  repose  before 
proceeding  upon  our  route.  At  four  precisely,  there 
fore,  the  carriage  drew  up  at  the  door  of  the  principal 
inn.  I  handed  my  adored  wife  out  and  ordered  break 
fast  forthwith.  In  the  meantime  we  were  shown  into 
a  small  parlor  and  sat  down. 

It  was  now  nearly  if  not  altogether  daylight ;  and,  as 
I  gazed,  enraptured,  at  the  angel  by  my  side,  the  singu 
lar  idea  came,  all  at  once,  into  my  head,  that  this  was 
really  the  very  first  moment  since  my  acquaintance 
with  the  celebrated  loveliness  of  Madame  Lalande, 
that  I  had  enjoyed  a  near  inspection  of  that  loveli-. 
ness  by  daylight  at  all. 

"  And  now,  man  ami,"  said  she,  taking  my  hand, 
and  so  interrupting  this  train  of  reflection, — "  and  now, 
mon  cher  ami,  since  we  are  indissolubly  one,  since  I 
have  yielded  to  your  passionate  entreaties  and  per 
formed  my  portion  of  our  agreement,  I  presume  you 
have  not  forgotten  that  you  also  have  a  little  favor  to 
bestow,  a  little  promise  which  it  is  your  intention  to 
keep.  Ah!  let  me  see!  Let  me  remember!  Yes; 
full  easily  do  I  call  to  mind  the  precise  words  of  the 
dear  promise  you  made  to  Eugenie  last  night.  Listen ! 
You  spoke  thus:  '  It  is  done! — it  is  most  cheerfully 
agreed!  I  sacrifice  every  feeling  for  your  sake.  To- 

218 


The  Spectacles 

night  I  wear  this  dear  eye-glass  as  an  eye-glass,  and 
upon  my  heart;  but  with  the  earliest  dawn  of  that 
morning  which  gives  me  the  privilege  of  calling  you 
wife,  I  will  place  it  upon  my — upon  my  nose,  and  there 
wear  it  ever  afterward,  in  the  less  romantic  and  less 
fashionable,  but  certainly  in  the  more  serviceable  form 
which  you  desire.'  These  were  the  exact  words,  my 
beloved  husband,  were  they  not  ?  " 

"  They  were,"  I  said ;  "  you  have  an  excellent  mem 
ory  ;  and  assuredly,  my  beautiful  Eugenie,  there  is  no 
disposition  on  my  part  to  evade  the  performance  of  the 
trivial  promise  they  imply.  See !  Behold !  They  are 
becoming,  rather,  are  they  not  ?  "  And  here,  hav 
ing  arranged  the  glasses  in  the  ordinary  form  of  spec 
tacles,  I  applied  them  gingerly  in  their  proper  position ; 
while  Madame  Simpson,  adjusting  her  cap  and  folding 
her  arms,  sat  bolt  upright  in  her  chair,  in  a  somewhat 
stiff  and  prim,  and,  indeed,  in  a  somewhat  undignified 
position. 

"  Goodness  gracious  me !  "  I  exclaimed,  almost  at 
the  very  instant  that  the  rim  of  the  spectacles  had 
settled  upon  my  nose;  "  My!  goodness  gracious  me! 
— why,  what  can  be  the  matter  with  these  glasses  ?  " 
and,  taking  them  quickly  off,  I  wiped  them  carefully 
with  a  silk  handkerchief  and  adjusted  them  again. 

But  if,  in  the  first  instance,  there  had  occurred  some 
thing  which  occasioned  me  surprise,  in  the  second 
this  surprise  became  elevated  into  astonishment;  and 

219 


The  Spectacles 

this  astonishment  was  profound,  was  extreme — indeed 
I  may  say  it  was  horrific.  What,  in  tho  name  of  every 
thing  hideous,  did  this  mean  ?  Could  I  believe  my 
eyes  ? — could  I  ? — that  was  the  question.  Was  that 
— was  that — was  that  rouge  ?  And  were  those — and 
were  those — were  those  wrinkles  upon  the  visage  of 
Eugenie  Lalande  ?  And  oh !  Jupiter,  and  every  one  of 
the  gods  and  goddesses,  little  and  big! — what — what — • 
what — what  had  become  of  her  teeth  ?  I  dashed  the 
spectacles  violently  to  the  ground,  and,  leaping  to  my 
feet,  stood  erect  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  confronting 
Mrs.  Simpson,  with  my  arms  set  akimbo,  and  grinning 
and  foaming,  but,  at  the  same  time,  utterly  speechless 
with  terror  and  with  rage. 

Now  I  have  already  said  that  Madame  Eugenie  La 
lande,  that  is  to  say,  Simpson,  spoke  the  English 
language  but  very  little  better  than  she  wrote  it ;  and 
for  this  reason  she  very  properly  never  attempted  to 
speak  it  upon  ordinary  occasions.  But  rage  will  carry 
a  lady  to  any  extreme ;  and  in  the  present  case  it  car 
ried  Mrs.  Simpson  to  the  very  extraordinary  extreme 
of  attempting  to  hold  a  conversation  in  a  tongue  that 
she  did  not  altogether  understand. 

"  Veil,  Monsieur,"  said  she,  after  surveying  me,  in 
great  apparent  astonishment,  for  some  moments— 
"  veil,  Monsieur! — and  vat  den  ? — vat  de  matter  now  ? 
Is  it  de  dance  of  de  Saint  Vitusse  dat  you  ave  ?  If  not 
like  me,  vat  for  vy  buy  de  pig  in  de  poke  ?  " 

220 


The  Spectacles 

"  You  wretch!  "  said  I,  catching  my  breath;  "  you 
— : you — you  villainous  old  hag !  " 

"  Ag  ? — ole  ? — me  not  so  ver  ole,  after  all!  me  not 
one  single  day  more  dan  de  eighty-doo." 

"  Eighty-two!  "  I  ejaculated,  staggering  to  the  wall; 
:<  eighty-two  hundred  thousand  baboons!  The  min 
iature  said  twenty-seven  years  and  seven  months!  " 

"  To  be  sure !  dat  is  so !  ver  true !  but  den  de  por- 
traite  has  been  take  for  dese  fifty-five  year.  Ven  I  go 
marry  my  segonde  usbande,  Monsieur  Lalande,  at  dat 
time  I  had  de  portraite  take  for  my  daughter  by  my 
first  usband,  Monsieur  Moissart !  " 

"Moissart!"saidl. 

"  Yes,  Moissart,"  said  she,  mimicking  my  pronun 
ciation,  which,  to  speak  the  truth,  was  none  of  the 
best ;  "  and  vat  den  ?  Vat  you  know  about  de  Mois 
sart  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  you  old  fright! — I  know  nothing  about 
him  at  all ;  only  I  had  an  ancestor  of  that  name,  once 
upon  a  time." 

"Dat  name !  and  vat  you  ave  for  say  to  dat  name  ? 
T  is  ver  goot  name ;  and  so  is  Voissart — dat  is  ver  goot 
name  too.  My  daughter,  Mademoiselle  Moissart,  she 
marry  von  Monsieur  Voissart;  and  de  name  is  both 
ver  respectaable  name." 

"  Moissart  !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  and  Voissart!  why, 
what  is  it  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Vat  I  mean  ? — I  mean  Moissart  and  Voissart;  and, 

221 


The  Spectacles 

for  de  matter  of  dat,  I  mean  Croissart  and  Froissart, 
too,  if  I  only  tink  proper  to  mean  it.  My  daughter's 
daughter,  Mademoiselle  Voissart,  she  marry  von  Mon 
sieur  Croissart,  and  den  agin,  my  daughter's  grande- 
daughter,  Madamoiselle  Croissart,  she  marry  von 
Monsieur  Froissart ;  and  I  suppose  you  say  dat  dat  is 
not  von  ver  respectaable  name." 

"  Froissart !  "  said  I,  beginning  to  faint,  "  why, 
surely  you  don't  say  Moissart,  and  Voissart,  and  Crois 
sart,  and  Froissart  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  leaning  fully  back  in  her  chair, 
and  stretching  out  her  lower  limbs  at  great  length, — • 
"  yes,  Moissart,  and  Voissart,  and  Croissart,  and  Frois 
sart.  But  Monsieur  Froissart,  he  vas  von  ver  big  vat 
you  call  fool — he  vas  von  ver  great  big  donee  like  your 
self — for  he  lef  la  belle  France  for  come  to  dis  stupide 
Arne"rique — and  ven  he  get  here  he  vent  and  ave  von 
ver  stupide,  von  ver,  ver  stupide  sonn,  so  I  hear,  dough 
I  not  yet  av  ad  de  plaisir  to  meet  vid  him — neither  me 
nor  my  companion,  de  Madame  Stephanie  Lalande. 
He  is  name  de  Napoleon  Bonaparte  Froissart,  and  I 
suppose  you  say  dat  dat,  too,  is  not  von  ver  respectaable 
name." 

Either  the  length  or  the  nature  of  this  speech  had 
the  effect  of  working  up  Mrs.  Simpson  into  a  very  ex 
traordinary  passion  indeed:  and  as  she  made  an  end 
of  it,  with  great  labor  she  jumped  up  from  her  chair 
like  somebody  bewitched,  dropping  upon  the  floor  an 

222 


THE  SPECTACLES 

"  Meantime  I  sank  aghast  into  the  chair  which  she  had 
vacated." 


The  Spectacles 

entire  universe  of  bustle  as  she  jumped.  Once  upoa 
her  feet,  she  gnashed  her  gums,  brandished  her  arms, 
rolled  up  her  sleeves,  shook  her  fist  in  my  face,  and 
concluded  the  performance  by  tearing  the  cap  from  her 
head,  and  with  it  an  immense  wig  of  the  most  valuable 
and  beautiful  black  hair,  the  whole  of  which  she  dashed 
upon  the  ground  with  a  yell,  and  there  trampled  and 
danced  a  fandango  upon  it  in  an  absolute  ecstasy  and 
agony  of  rage. 

Meantime  I  sank  aghast  into  the  chair  which  she 
had  vacated.  "  Moissart  and  Voissart!  "  I  repeated, 
thoughtfully,  as  she  cut  one  of  her  pigeon-wings,  "  and 
Croissart  and  Froissart!  "  as  she  completed  another— 
"  Moissart  and  Voissart  and  Croissart  and  Napoleon 
Bonaparte  Froissart! — why,  you  ineffable  old  serpent, 
that's  me;  that's  me,  d'ye  hear? — that's  me" — 
here  I  screamed  at  the  top  of  my  voice,  "  that 's 
me-e-e!  I  am  Napoleon  Bonaparte  Froissart!  and  if 
I  have  n't  married  my  great-great-grandmother,  I  wish 
I  may  be  everlastingly  confounded!  " 

Madame  Eugenie  Lalande,  quasi  Simpson,  formerly 
Moissart,  was,  in  sober  fact,  my  great  great-grand 
mother.  In  her  youth  she  had  been  beautiful,  and 
even  at  eighty-two  retained  the  majestic  height,  the 
sculptural  contour  of  head,  the  fine  eyes  and  the 
Grecian  nose  of  her  girlhood.  By  the  aid  of  these,  of 
pearl-powder,  of  rouge,  of  false  hair,  false  teeth,  and 
false  tournure,  as  well  as  of  the  most  skilful  modistes 

223 


The  Spectacles 

of  Paris,  she  contrived  to  hold  a  respectable  footing 
among  the  beauties  en.  peu  passees  of  the  French  me 
tropolis.  In  this  respect,  indeed,  she  might  have  beei: 
regarded  as  little  less  than  the  equal  of  the  celebrated 
Mnon  de  PEnclos. 

She  was  immensely  wealthy,  and  being  left,  for  the 
second  time,  a  widow  without  children,  she  bethought 
herself  of  my  existence  in  America,  and,  for  the  purpose 
of  making  me  her  heir,  paid  a  visit  to  the  United 
States,  in  company  with  a  distant  and  exceedingly 
lovely  relative  of  her  second  husband's — a  Madame 
Stephanie  Lalande. 

At  the  opera  my  great-great-grandmother's  atten 
tion  was  arrested  by  my  notice ;  and  upon  surveying 
me  through  her  eye-glass  she  was  struck  with  a  cer 
tain  family  resemblance  to  herself.  Thus  interested, 
and  knowing  that  the  heir  she  sought  was  actually  in 
the  city,  she  made  inquiries  of  her  party  respecting  me. 
The  gentleman  who  attended  her  knew  my  person  and 
told  her  who  I  was.  The  information  thus  obtained 
induced  her  to  renew  her  scrutiny;  and  this  scrutiny 
It  was  which  so  emboldened  me  that  I  behaved  in  the 
absurd  manner  already  detailed.  She  returned  my 
bow,  however,  under  the  impression  that,  by  some  odd 
accident,  I  had  discovered  her  identity.  When,  de 
ceived  by  my  weakness  of  vision  and  the  arts  of  the 
toilet  in  respect  to  the  age  and  charms  of  the  strange 
lady,  I  demanded  so  enthusiastically  of  Talbot  who  she 


The  Spectacles 

was,  he  concluded  that  I  meant  the  younger  bea/uty,  as 
a  matter  of  course,  and  so  informed  me,  with  perfect 
truth,  that  she  was  "  the  celebrated  widow,  Madame 
Lalande." 

In  the  street  next  morning,  my  great-great-grand 
mother  encountered  Talbot,  an  old  Parisian  acquaint 
ance  ;  and  the  conversation  very  naturally  turned  upon 
myself.  My  deficiencies  of  vision  were  then  explained ; 
for  these  were  notorious,  although  I  was  entirely 
ignorant  of  their  notoriety;  and  my  good  old  relative 
discovered,  much  to  her  chagrin,  that  she  had  been  de 
ceived  in  supposing  me  aware  of  her  identity,  and  that 
I  had  been  merely  making  a  fool  of  myself  in  making 
open  love,  in  a  theatre,  to  an  old  woman  unknown. 
By  way  of  punishing  me  for  this  imprudence,  she  con 
cocted  with  Talbot  a  plot.  He  purposely  kept  out  of 
my  way  to  avoid  giving  me  the  introduction.  My 
street  inquiries  about  "  the  lovely  widow,  Madame 
Lalande,"  were  supposed  to  refer  to  the  younger  lady, 
of  course;  and  thus  the  conversation  with  the  three 
gentlemen  whom  I  encountered  shortly  after  leaving 
Talbot's  hotel  will  be  easily  explained,  as  also  their 
allusion  to  Ninon  de  PEnclos.  I  had  no  opportunity 
of  seeing  Madame  Lalande  closely  during  daylight,  and, 
at  her  musical  soiree  my  silly  weakness  in  refusing  the 
aid  of  glasses  effectually  prevented  me  from  making  a 
discovery  of  her  age.  When  "  Madame  Lalande  "  was 
called  upon  to  sing,  the  younger  lady  was  intended; 

VOL.V.-I5.  72(- 


The  Spectacles 

and  it  was  she  who  arose  to  obey  the  call,  my  great- 
great-grandmother,  to  further  the  deception,  arising 
at  the  same  moment  and  accompanying  her  to  the 
piano  in  the  main  drawing-room.  Had  I  decided  upon 
escorting  her  thither,  it  had  been  her  design  to  suggest 
the  propriety  of  my  remaining  where  I  was;  but  my 
own  prudential  views  rendered  this  unnecessary.  The 
songs  which  I  so  much  admired,  and  which  so  con 
firmed  my  impression  of  the  youth  of  my  mistress, 
were  executed  by  Madame  Stephanie  Lalande.  The 
eye-glass  was  presented  by  way  of  adding  a  reproof  to 
the  hoax — a  sting  to  the  epigram  of  the  deception.  Its 
presentation  afforded  an  opportunity  for  the  lecture 
upon  affectation  .with  which  I  was  so  especially  edified. 
It  is  almost  superfluous  to  add  that  the  glasses  of  the 
instrument,  as  worn  by  the  old  lady,  had  been  ex 
changed  by  her  for  a  pair  better  adapted  to  my  years. 
They  suited  me,  in  fact,  to  a  T. 

The  clergyman,  who  merely  pretended  to  tie  the 
fatal  knot,  was  a  boon  companion  of  Talbot's,  and  no 
priest.  He  was  an  excellent  "  whip,"  however;  and, 
having  doffed  his  cassock  to  put  on  a  great-coat,  he 
drove  the  hack  which  conveyed  the  "  happy  couple  " 
out  of  town.  Talbot  took  a  seat  at  his  side.  The  two 
scoundrels  were  thus  "  in  at  the  death,"  and  through  a 
half-open  window  of  the  back  parlor  of  the  inn,  amused 
themselves  in  grinning  at  the  denouement  of  the  drama. 
I  believe  I  shall  be  forced  to  call  them  both  out. 

226 


The  Spectacles 

Nevertheless,  I  am  not  the  husband  of  my  great- 
great-grandmother,  and  this  is  a  reflection  which 
affords  me  infinite  relief;  but  I  am  the  husband  of 
Madame  Lalande — of  Madame  Stephanie  Lalande, 
with  whom  my  good  old  relative,  besides  making  me 
her  sole  heir  when  she  dies — if  she  ever  does — has  been 
at  the  trouble  of  concocting  me  a  match.  In  conclu 
sion:  I  am  done  forever  with  billets-doux,  and  am 
to  be  met  without  spectacles. 


Diddling 


CONSIDERED  AS  ONE  OF  THE  EXACT  SCIENCES 

Hey,  diddle  diddle, 
The  cat  and  the  fiddle. 


INCE  the  world  began  there  have  been  two 
Jeremys.  The  one  wrote  a  Jeremiad  about 
usury,  and  was  called  Jeremy  Bentham. 
He  has  been  much  admired  by  Mr.  John  Neal,  and  was 
a  great  man  in  a  small  way.  The  other  gave  name  to  . 
the  most  important  of  the  exact  sciences,  and  was  a 
great  man  in  a  great  way — I  may  say,  indeed,  in  the 
very  greatest  of  ways. 

Diddling,  or  the  abstract  idea  conveyed  by  the  verb 
to  diddle,  is  sufficiently  well  understood.  Yet  the 
fact,  the  deed,  the  thing,  diddling,  is  somewhat  difficult 
to  define.  We  may  get,  however,  at  a  tolerably  dis 
tinct  conception  of  the  matter  in  hand  by  defining 
not  the  thing,  diddling,  in  itself,  but  man,  as  an  ani 
mal  that  diddles.  Had  Plato  but  hit  upon  this,  he 

228 


Diddling 

would  have  been  spared  the  affront  of  the  picked 
chicken. 

Very  pertinently  it  was  demanded  of  Plato,  why  a 
picked  chicken,  which  was  clearly  a  "  biped  without 
feathers,"  was  not,  according  to  his  own  definition,  a 
man  ?  But  I  am  not  to  be  bothered  by  any  similar 
query.  Man  is  an  animal  that  diddles,  and  there  is  no 
animal  that  diddles  but  man.  It  will  take  an  entire 
hen-coop  of  picked  chickens  to  get  over  that. 

What  constitutes  the  essence,  the  nare,  the  principle 
of  diddling  is,  in  fact,  peculiar  to  the  class  of  creatures 
that  wear  coats  and  pantaloons.  A  crow  thieves;  a 
fox  cheats;  a  weasel  outwits;  a  man  diddles.  To 
diddle  is  his  destiny.  "  Man  was  made  to  mourn," 
says  the  poet.  But  not  so:  he  was  made  to  diddle. 
This  is  his  aim,  his  object,  his  end.  And  for  this 
reason  when  a  man  's  diddled  we  say  he  Js  "  done." 

Diddling,  rightly  considered,  is  a  compound,  of 
which  the  ingredients  are  minuteness,  interest,  perse 
verance,  ingenuity,  audacity,  nonchalance,  originality, 
impertinence,  and  grin. 

Minuteness  / — Your  diddler  is  minute.  His  opera 
tions  are  upon  a  small  scale.  His  business  is  retail, 
for  cash,  or  approved  paper  at  sight.  Should  he  ever 
be  tempted  into  magnificent  speculation,  he  then,  at 
once,  loses  his  distinctive  features  and  becomes  what 
we  term  "  financier."  This  latter  word  conveys  the 
diddling  idea  in  every  respect  except  that  of  magnitude. 

229 


Diddling 

A  diddler  may  thus  be  regarded  as  a  banker  in  petto— 
a  "  financial  operation,"  as  a  diddle  at  Brobdignag. 
The  one  is  to  the  other  as  Homer  to  "  Flaccus,"  as  a 
mastodon  to  a  mouse,  as  the  tail  of  a  comet  to  that  of 
a  pig. 

Interests — Your  diddler  is  guided  by  self-interest. 
He  scorns  to  diddle  for  the  mere  sake  of  the  diddle. 
He  has  an  object  in  view,  his  pocket  and  yours.  He 
regards  always  the  main  chance.  He  looks  to  Number 
One.  You  are  Number  Two,  and  must  look  to  your 
self. 

Perseverance  / — Your  diddler  perseveres.  He  is  not 
readily  discouraged.  Should  even  the  banks  break,  he 
cares  nothing  about  it.  He  steadily  pursues  his  end, 
and 

Ut  canis  a  corio  nunquam  absterrebitur  uncto, 

so  he  lets  go  of  his  game. 

Ingenuity  i — Your  diddler  is  ingenious.  He  has  con- 
structiveness  large.  He  understands  plot.  He  in 
vents  and  circumvents.  Were  he  not  Alexander  he 
would  be  Diogenes.  Were  he  not  a  diddler,  he  would 
be  a  maker  of  patent  rat-traps  or  an  angler  for  trout. 

Audacity! — Your  diddler  is  audacious.  He  is  a  bold 
man.  He  carries  the  war  into  Africa.  He  conquers 
all  by  assault.  He  would  not  fear  the  daggers  of  Frey 
Herren.  With  a  little  more  prudence  Dick  Turpin 
would  have  made  a  good  diddler;  with  a  trifle  less 

230 


Diddling 

blarney,  Daniel  O'Connell ;  with  a  pound  or  two  more 
brains,  Charles  the  Twelfth. 

Nonchalance : — Your  diddler  is  nonchalant.  He  is 
not  at  all  nervous.  He  never  had  any  nerves.  He  is 
never  seduced  into  a  flurry.  He  is  never  put  out, 
unless  put  out  of  doors.  He  is  cool,  cool  as  a  cucum 
ber.  He  is  calm,  "  calm  as  a  smile  from  Lady  Bury." 
He  is  easy,  easy  as  an  old  glove,  or  the  damsels  of 
ancient  Baiae. 

Originality! — Your  diddler  is  original,  conscien 
tiously  so.  His  thoughts  are  his  own.  He  would 
scorn  to  employ  those  of  another.  A  stale  trick  is  his 
aversion.  He  would  return  a  purse,  I  am  sure,  upon 
discovering  that  he  had  obtained  it  by  an  unoriginal 
diddle. 

Impertinence  s — Your  diddler  is  impertinent.  He 
swaggers.  He  sets  his  arms  akimbo.  He  thrusts  his 
hands  in  his  trousers'  pocket.  He  sneers  in  your  face. 
He  treads  on  your  corns.  He  eats  your  dinner,  he 
drinks  your  wine,  he  borrows  your  money,  he  pulls  your 
nose,  he  kicks  your  poodle,  and  he  kisses  your  wife. 

Grin  s — Your  true  diddler  winds  up  all  with  a  grin. 
But  this  nobody  sees  but  himself.  He  grins  when  his 
daily  work  is  done,  when  his  allotted  labors  are  ac 
complished,  at  night  in  his  own  closet,  and  altogether 
for  his  own  private  entertainment.  He  goes  home. 
He  locks  his  door.  He  divests  himself  of  his  clothes. 
He  puts  out  his  candle.  He  gets  into  bed.  He  places 

231 


Diddling 

his  head  upon  the  pillow.  All  this  done,  and  your 
diddler  grins.  This  is  no  hypothesis.  It  is  a  matter  of 
course.  I  reason  a  priori,  and  a  diddle  would  be  no 
diddle  without  a  grin. 

The  origin  of  the  diddle  is  referrible  to  the  infancy  of 
the  human  race.  Perhaps  the  first  diddler  was  Adam. 
At  all  events,  we  can  trace  the  science  back  to  a  very 
remote  period  of  antiquity.  The  moderns,  however, 
have  brought  it  to  a  perfection  never  dreamed  of  by 
our  thick-headed  progenitors.  Without  pausing  to 
speak  of  the  "  old  saws,"  therefore,  I  shall  content 
myself  with  a  compendious  account  of  some  of  the 
more  "  modern  instances." 

A  very  good  diddle  is  this.  A  housekeeper  in  want 
of  a  sofa,  for  instance,  is  seen  to  go  in  and  out  of  several 
cabinet  warehouses.  At  length  she  arrives  at  one 
offering  an  excellent  variety.  She  is  accosted  and  in 
vited  to  enter  by  a  polite  and  voluble  individual  at  the 
door.  She  finds  a  sofa  well  adapted  to  her  views,  and, 
upon  inquiring  the  price,  is  surprised  and  delighted  to 
hear  a  sum  named  at  least  twenty  per  cent,  lower  than 
her  expectations.  She  hastens  to  make  the  purchase, 
gets  a  bill  and  receipt,  leaves  her  address,  with  a  re 
quest  that  the  article  be  sent  home  as  speedily  as  pos 
sible,  and  retires  amid  a  profusion  of  bows  from  the 
shopkeeper.  The  night  arrives  and  no  sofa.  The 
next  day  passes,  and  still  none.  A  servant  is  sent  to 
make  inquiry  about  the  delay.  The  whole  transaction 

232 


Diddling 

is  denied.  No  sofa  has  been  sold — no  money  received 
— except  by  the  diddler,  who  played  shopkeeper  for 
the  nonce. 

Our  cabinet  warehouses  are  left  entirely  unattended, 
and  thus  afford  every  facility  for  a  trick  of  this  kind. 
Visitors  enter,  look  at  furniture,  and  depart  unheeded 
and  unseen.  Should  anyone  wish  to  purchase,  or  to 
inquire  the  price  of  an  article,  a  bell  is  at  hand,  and 
this  is  considered  amply  sufficient. 

Again,  quite  a  respectable  diddle  is  this:  A  well- 
dressed  individual  enters  a  shop,  makes  a  purchase  to 
the  value  of  a  dollar,  finds,  much  to  his  vexation,  that 
he  has  left  his  pocket-book  in  another  coat  pocket, 
and  so  says  to  the  shopkeeper : 

"  My  dear  sir,  never  mind! — just  oblige  me,  will  you, 
by  sending  the  bundle  home  ?  But  stay!  I  really  be 
lieve  that  I  have  nothing  less  than  a  five-dollar  bill, 
even  there.  However,  you  can  send  four  dollars  in 
change  with  the  bundle,  you  know." 

"  Very  good,  sir,"  replies  the  shopkeeper,  who  en 
tertains  at  once  a  lofty  opinion  of  the  high-mindedness 
of  his  customer.  "  I  know  fellows,"  he  says  to  him 
self,  "  who  would  just  have  put  the  goods  under  their 
arm  and  walked  off  with  a  promise  to  call  and  pay  the 
dollar  as  they  came  by  in  the  afternoon." 

A  boy  is  sent  with  the  parcel  and  change.  On  the 
route,  quite  accidentally,  he  is  met  by  the  purchaser, 
who  exclaims: 

233 


Diddling 

"  Ah !  this  is  my  bundle,  I  see — I  thought  you  had 
been  home  with  it  long  ago.  Well,  go  onl  My  wife, 
Mrs.  Trotter,  will  give  you  the  five  dollars;  I  left  in 
structions  with  her  to  that  effect.  The  change  you 
might  as  well  give  to  me — I  shall  want  some  silver  for 
the  post-office.  Very  good !  One,  two,  is  this  a  good 
quarter? — three,  four, — quite  right!  Say  to  Mrs. 
Trotter  that  you  met  me,  and  be  sure  now  and  do  not 
loiter  on  the  way." 

The  boy  does  n't  loiter  at  all,  but  he  is  a  very  long 
time  in  getting  back  from  his  errand,  for  no  lady  of  the 
precise  name  of  Mrs.  Trotter  is  to  be  discovered.  He 
consoles  himself,  however,  that  he  has  not  been  such  a 
fool  as  to  leave  the  goods  without  the  money,  and  re- 
entering  his  shop  with  a  self-satisfied  air,  feels  sensibly 
hurt  and  indignant  when  his  master  asks  him  what  has 
become  of  the  change. 

A  very  simple  diddle,  indeed,  is  this :  The  captain  of 
a  ship  which  is  about  to  sail  is  presented  by  an  official- 
looking  person  with  an  unusually  moderate  bill  of  city 
charges.  Glad  to  get  off  so  easily,  and  confused  by  a 
hundred  duties  pressing  upon  him  all  at  once,  he  dis 
charges  the  claim  forthwith.  In  about  fifteen  minutes, 
another  and  less  reasonable  bill  is  handed  him  by  one 
who  soon  makes  it  evident  that  the  first  collector  was 
a  diddler,  and  the  original  collection  a  diddle. 

And  here,  too,  is  a  somewhat  similar  thing:  A 
steamboat  is  casting  loose  from  the  wharf.  A  travel- 

234 


Diddling 

ler,  portmanteau  in  hand,  is  discovered  running  toward 
the  wharf  at  full  speed.  Suddenly  he  makes  a  dead 
halt,  stoops,  and  picks  up  something  from  the  ground 
in  a  very  agitated  manner.  It  is  a  pocket-book,  and— 
"  Has  any  gentleman  lost  a  pocket-book  ?  "  he  cries. 
No  one  can  say  that  he  has  exactly  lost  a  pocket-book ; 
but  a  great  excitement  ensues  when  the  treasure-trove 
is  found  to  be  of  value.  The  boat,  however,  must  not 
be  detained. 

"  Time  and  tide  wait  for  no  man,"  says  the  captain. 

"  For  God's  sake,  stay  only  a  few  minutes,"  says  the 
finder  of  the  book ;  "  the  true  claimant  will  presently 
appear." 

"  Can't  wait!  "  replies  the  man  in  authority;  "  cast 
off,  there,  d'  ye  hear  ?  " 

"  What  am  I  to  do  ?  "  asks  the  finder,  in  great  tribu 
lation.  "  I  am  about  to  leave  the  country  for  some 
years  and  I  cannot  conscientiously  retain  this  large 
amount  in  my  possession.  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir  " 
[here  he  addresses  a  gentleman  on  shore],  "  but  you 
have  the  air  of  an  honest  man.  Will  you  confer  upon 
me  the  favor  of  taking  charge  of  this  pocket-book — I 
know  I  can  trust  you — and  of  advertising  it  ?  The 
notes,  you  see,  amount  to  a  very  considerable  sum. 
The  owner  will,  no  doubt,  insist  upon  rewarding  you 
for  your  trouble— 

"  Me! — no,  you! — it  was  you  who  found  the  book." 

"  Well,  if  you  must  have  it  so,  I  will  take  a  small 
235 


Diddling 

reward — just  to  satisfy  your  scruples.  Let  me  see; 
why,  these  notes  are  all  hundreds — bless  my  soul!  a 
hundred  is  too  much  to  take;  fifty  would  be  quite 
enough,  I  am  sure " 

"  Cast  off  there !  "  says  the  captain. 

"  But  then  I  have  no  change  for  a  hundred,  and, 
upon  the  whole,  you  had  better " 

"  Cast  off  there !  "  says  the  captain. 

"  Never  mind !  "  cries  the  gentleman  on  shore,  who 
has  been  examining  his  own  pocket-book  for  the  last 
minute  or  so — "  never  mind!  I  can  fix  it — here  is  a 
fifty  on  the  Bank  of  North  America — throw  me  the 
book." 

And  the  overconscientious  finder  takes  the  fifty  with 
marked  reluctance  and  throws  the  gentleman  the  book 
as  desired,  while  the  steamboat  fumes  and  fizzes  on 
her  way.  In  about  half  an  hour  after  her  departure, 
the  "  large  amount  "  is  seen  to  be  a  "  counterfeit  pre 
sentment,"  and  the  whole  thing  a  capital  diddle. 

A  bold  diddle  is  this:  A  camp-meeting,  or  some 
thing  similar,  is  to  be  held  at  a  certain  spot  which  is 
accessible  only  by  means  of  a  free  bridge.  A  diddler 
stations  himself  upon  this  bridge,  respectfully  informs 
all  passers-by  of  the  new  county  law,  which  establishes 
a  toll  of  one  cent  for  foot  passengers,  two  for  horses 
and  donkeys,  and  so  forth,  and  so  forth.  Some  grumble 
but  all  submit,  and  the  diddler  goes  home  a  wealthier 
man  by  some  fifty  or  sixty  dollars  well  earned.  This 

236 


Diddling 

taking  toll  from  a  great  crowd  of  people  is  an  exces 
sively  troublesome  thing. 

A  neat  diddle  is  this.  A  friend  holds  one  of  the  did- 
dler's  promises  to  pay,  filled  up  and  signed  in  due  form, 
upon  the  ordinary  blanks  printed  in  red  ink.  The  did- 
dler  purchases  one  or  two  dozen  of  these  blanks  and 
every  day  dips  one  of  them  in  his  soup,  makes  his  dog 
jump  for  it,  and  finally  gives  it  to  him  as  a  bonne 
bouche,  The  note  arriving  at  maturity,  the  diddler, 
with  the  diddler's  dog,  calls  upon  the  friend,  and  the 
promise  to  pay  is  made  the  topic  of  discussion.  The 
friend  produces  it  from  his  escritoire,  and  is  in  the  act  of 
reaching  it  to  the  diddler,  when  up  jumps  the  diddler's 
dog  and  devours  it  forthwith.  The  diddler  is  not  only 
surprised,  but  vexed  and  incensed  at  the  absurd  be 
havior  of  his  dog,  and  expresses  his  entire  readiness  to 
cancel  the  obligation  at  any  moment  when  the  evidence 
of  the  obligation  shall  be  forthcoming. 

A  very  minute  diddle  is  this :  A  lady  is  insulted  in 
the  street  by  a  diddler's  accomplice.  The  diddler  him 
self  flies  to  her  assistance,  and,  giving  his  friend  a  com 
fortable  thrashing,  insists  upon  attending  the  lady  to 
her  own  door.  He  bows,  with  his  hand  upon  his  heart, 
and  most  respectfully  bids  her  adieu.  She  entreats 
him,  as  her  deliverer,  to  walk  in  and  be  introduced  to 
her  big  brother  and  her  papa.  With  a  sigh,  he  declines 
to  do  so.  "  Is  there  no  way,  then,  sir,"  she  murmurs, 
"  in  which  I  may  be  permitted  to  testify  my  gratitude  ?  " 

237 


Diddling 

"  Why,  yes,  madam,  there  is.  Will  you  be  kind 
enough  to  lend  me  a  couple  of  shillings  ?  " 

In  the  first  excitement  of  the  moment  the  lady  de 
cides  upon  fainting  outright.  Upon  second  thought, 
however,  she  opens  her  purse-strings  and  delivers  the 
specie.  Now  this,  I  say,  is  a  diddle  minute — for  one 
entire  moiety  of  the  sum  borrowed  has  to  be  paid  to 
the  gentleman  who  had  the  trouble  of  performing  the 
insult  and  who  had  then  to  stand  still  and  be  thrashed 
for  performing  it. 

Rather  a  small,  but  still  a  scientific  diddle  is  this. 
The  diddler  approaches  the  bar  of  a  tavern  and  de 
mands  a  couple  of  twists  of  tobacco.  These  are  handed 
to  him,  when,  having  slightly  examined  them,  he  says : 

"  I  don't  much  like  this  tobacco.  Here,  take  it 
back  and  give  me  a  glass  of  brandy  and  water  in  its 
place." 

The  brandy  and  water  is  furnished  and  imbibed,  and 
the  diddler  makes  his  way  to  the  door.  But  the  voice 
of  the  tavern-keeper  arrests  him. 

"  I  believe,  sir,  you  have  forgotten  to  pay  for  your 
brandy  and  water." 

"  Pay  for  my  brandy  and  water! — did  n't  I  give  you 
the  tobacco  for  the  brandy  and  water  ?  What  more 
would  you  have  ?  " 

"  But,  sir,  if  you  please,  I  don't  remember  that  you 
paid  me  for  the  tobacco." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that,  you  scoundrel  ?— 
238 


Diddling 

Did  n't  I  give  you  back  your  tobacco  ?  Is  n't  that 
your  tobacco  lying  there  ?  Do  you  expect  me  to  pay 
for  what  I  did  not  take  ?  " 

"  But,  sir,"  says  the  publican,  now  rather  at  a  loss 
what  to  say,  "  but,  sir— 

"  But  me  no  buts,  sir,"  interrupts  the  diddler,  appar 
ently  in  very  high  dudgeon,  and  slamming  the  door 
after  him  as  he  makes  his  escape,  "  but  me  no  buts, 
sir,  and  none  of  your  tricks  upon  travellers." 

Here,  again,  is  a  very  clever  diddle,  of  which  the  sim 
plicity  is  not  its  least  recommendation :  A  purse,  or 
pocket-book,  being  really  lost,  the  loser  inserts  in  one 
of  the  daily  papers  of  a  large  city  a  fully  descriptive 
advertisement. 

Whereupon  our  diddler  copies  the  facts  of  this  ad 
vertisement,  with  a  change  of  heading,  of  general 
phraseology,  and  address.  The  original,  for  instance, 
is  long  and  verbose ;  is  headed  "  A  Pocket-Book  Lost!  " 
and  requires  the  treasure,  when  found,  to  be  left  at 
No.  i  Tom  Street.  The  copy  is  brief,  and  being  headed 
with  "  Lost  "  only,  indicates  No.  2  Dick,  or  No.  3 
Harry  Street,  as  the  locality  in  which  the  owner  may 
be  seen.  Moreover,  it  is  inserted  in  at  least  five  or  six 
of  the  daily  papers  of  the  day,  while,  in  point  of  time,  it 
makes  its  appearance  only  a  few  hours  after  the 
original.  Should  it  be  read  by  the  loser  of  the  purse, 
he  would  hardly  suspect  it  to  have  any  reference  to  his 
own  misfortune.  But,  of  course,  the  chances  are  five 

239 


Diddling 

or  six  to  one  that  the  finder  will  repair  to  the  address 
given  by  the  diddler,  rather  than  to  that  pointed  out 
by  the  rightful  proprietor.  The  former  pays  the 
reward,  pockets  the  treasure,  and  decamps. 

Quite  an  analogous  diddle  is  this:  A  lady  of  ton 
has  dropped,  somewhere  in  the  street,  a  diamond  ring 
of  very  unusual  value.  For  its  recovery  she  offers 
some  forty  or  fifty  dollars  reward,  giving,  in  her  ad 
vertisement,  a  very  minute  description  of  the  gem  and 
of  its  settings,  and  declaring  that,  on  its  restoration  at 
No.  so  and  so,  in  such  and  such  avenue,  the  reward 
will  be  paid  instanter,  without  a  single  question  being 
asked.  During  the  lady's  absence  from  home,  a  day  or 
two  afterwards,  a  ring  is  heard  at  the  door  of  No.  so 
and  so,  in  such  and  such  avenue ;  a  servant  appears ; 
the  lady  is  asked  for  and  is  declared  to  be  out,  at  which 
astounding  information  the  visitor  expresses  the  most 
poignant  regret.  His  business  is  of  importance  and 
concerns  the  lady  herself.  In  fact,  he  had  the  good 
fortune  to  find  her  diamond  ring.  But  perhaps  it 
would  be  as  well  that  he  should  call  again.  "  By  no 
means!  "  says  the  servant;  and  "  By  no  means!  " 
say  the  lady's  sister  and  the  lady's  sister-in  law,  who 
are  summoned  forthwith.  The  ring  is  clamorously 
identified,  the  reward  is  paid,  and  the  finder  nearly 
thrust  out  of  doors.  The  lady  returns  and  expresses 
some  little  dissatisfaction  with  her  sister  and  sister-in- 
law,  because  they  happen  to  have  paid  forty  or  fifty 

240 


Diddling 

dollars  for  a  facsimile  of  her  diamond  ring — a  fac 
simile  made  out  of  real  pinchbeck  and  unquestionable 
paste. 

But  as  there  is  really  no  end  to  diddling,  so  there 
would  be  none  to  this  essay,  were  I  even  to  hint  at  half 
the  variations  or  inflections  of  which  this  science  is 
susceptible.  I  must  bring  this  paper,  perforce,  to  a 
conclusion,  and  this  I  cannot  do  better  than  by  a  sum 
mary  notice  of  a  very  decent,  but  rather  elaborate 
diddle,  of  which  our  own  city  was  made  the  theatre, 
not  very  long  ago,  and  which  was  subsequently  re 
peated  with  success  in  other  still  more  verdant  locali 
ties  of  the  Union.  A  middle-aged  gentleman  arrives 
in  town  from  parts  unknown.  He  is  remarkably  pre 
cise,  cautious,  staid,  and  deliberate  in  his  demeanor. 
His  dress  is  scrupulously  neat,  but  plain,  unostenta 
tious.  He  wears  a  white  cravat,  an  ample  waistcoat, 
made  with  an  eye  to  comfort  alone ;  thick-soled,  cosy- 
looking  shoes,  and  pantaloons  without  straps.  He  has 
the  whole  air,  in  fact,  of  your  well-to-do,  sober-sided, 
exact,  and  respectable  "  man  of  business,"  par  excel' 
lence — one  of  the  stern  and  outwardly  hard,  internally 
soft,  sort  of  people  that  we  see  in  the  crack  high  come 
dies — fellows  whose  words  are  so  many  bonds,  and 
who  are  noted  for  giving  away  guineas  in  charity  with 
the  one  hand,  while,  in  the  way  of  mere  bargain,  they 
exact  the  uttermost  fraction  of  a  farthing  with  the  other. 

He  makes  much  ado  before  he  can  get  suited  with  a 

VOL.  V.— 16.  2AI 


Diddling 

boarding-house.  He  dislikes  children.  He  has  been 
accustomed  to  quiet.  His  habits  are  methodical,  and 
then  he  would  prefer  getting  into  a  private  and  respec 
table  small  family,  piously  inclined.  Terms,  however, 
are  no  object,  only  he  must  insist  upon  settling  his 
bill  on  the  first  of  every  month  (it  is  now  the  second), 
and  begs  his  landlady,  when  he  finally  obtains  one  to 
his  mind,  not  on  any  account  to  forget  his  instruc 
tions  upon  this  point,  but  to  send  in  a  bill  and  receipt 
precisely  at  ten  o'clock  on  the  first  day  of  every  month, 
and  under  no  circumstances  to  put  it  off  to  the  second. 

These  arrangements  made,  our  man  of  business 
rents  an  office  in  a  reputable  rather  than  a  fashionable 
quarter  of  the  town.  There  is  nothing  he  more  de 
spises  than  pretence.  "  Where  there  is  much  show,'* 
he  says,  "  there  is  seldom  anything  very  solid  behind," 
an  observation  which  so  profoundly  impresses  his  land 
lady's  fancy  that  she  makes  a  pencil  memorandum  of 
it  forthwith,  in  her  great  family  Bible,  on  the  broad 
margin  of  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon. 

The  next  step  is  to  advertise,  after  some  such  fashion 
as  this,  in  the  principal  business  sixpennies  of  the 
city — the  pennies  are  eschewed  as  not  "  respectable," 
and  as  demanding  payment  for  all  advertisements  in 
advance.  Our  man  of  business  holds  it  as  a  point  of 
his  faith  that  work  should  never  be  paid  for  until  done. 

"  WANTED. — The  advertisers,  being  about  to  commence  ex 
tensive  business  operations  in  this  city,  will  require  the  ser- 

242 


Diddling 

vices  of  three  or  four  intelligent  and  competent  clerks,  to  whom 
a  liberal  salary  will  be  paid.  The  very  best  recommendations, 
not  so  much  for  capacity  as  for  integrity,  will  be  expected. 
Indeed,  as  the  duties  to  be  performed  involve  high  responsi 
bilities,  and  large  amounts  of  money  must  necessarily  pass 
through  the  hands  of  those  engaged,  it  is  deemed  advisable  to 
demand  a  deposit  of  fifty  dollars  from  each  clerk  employed. 
No  person  need  apply,  therefore,  who  is  not  prepared  to  leave 
this  sum  in  the  possession  of  the  advertisers,  and  who  cannot 
furnish  the  most  satisfactory  testimonials  of  morality.  Young 
gentlemen  piously  inclined  will  be  preferred.  Application 
should  be  made  between  the  hours  of  ten  and  eleven  A.M=,  and 
four  and  five  P.M.,  of  MessrSc 

"  BOGS,  HOGS,  LOGS,  FROGS  &  Co., 
"  No.  no  Dog  Street." 

By  the  thirty-first  day  of  the  month  this  advertise 
ment  has  brought  to  the  office  of  Messrs.  Bogs,  Hogs, 
Logs,  Frogs  and  Company,  some  fifteen  or  twenty 
young  gentlemen  piously  inclined.  But  our  man  of 
business  is  in  no  hurry  to  conclude  a  contract  with  any, 
— no  man  of  business  is  ever  precipitate, — and  it  is  not 
until  the  most  rigid  catechism  in  respect  to  the  piety  of 
each  young  gentleman's  inclination  that  his  services 
are  engaged  and  his  fifty  dollars  receipted  for,  just  by 
way  of  proper  precaution,  on  the  part  of  the  respect 
able  firm  of  Bogs,  Hogs,  Logs,  Frogs  &  Company. 
On  the  morning  of  the  first  day  of  the  next  month  the 
landlady  does  not  present  her  bill,  according  to  prom 
ise,  a  piece  of  neglect  for  which  the  comfortable  head 
of  the  house  ending  in  ogs  would  no  doubt  have  chided 

243 


Diddling 

her  severely  could  he  have  been  prevailed  upon  to 
remain  in  town  a  day  or  two  for  that  purpose. 

As  it  is,  the  constables  have  had  a  sad  time  of  it, 
running  hither  and  thither,  and  all  they  can  do  is  to 
declare  the  man  of  business  most  emphatically,  a  "  hen 
knee-high,"  by  which  some  persons  imagine  them  to 
imply  that,  in  fact,  he  is  n,  e,  /,,  by  which,  again,  the 
very  classical  phrase  non  est  inventus  is  supposed  to 
be  understood.  In  the  meantime  the  young  gentle 
men,  one  and  all,  are  somewhat  less  piously  inclined 
than  before,  while  the  landlady  purchases  a  shilling's 
worth  of  the  best  Indian  rubber,  and  very  carefully 
obliterates  the  pencil  memorandum  that  some  fool  has 
made  in  her  great  family  Bible,  on  the  broad  margin 
of  the  Proverbs  of  Solomon. 


244 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged 
Mountains 


URING  the  fall  of  the  year  1827,  while  resid 
ing  near  Charlottesville,  Virginia,  I  casually 
made  the  acquaintance  of  Mr.  Augustus 
Bedloe.  This  young  gentleman  was  remarkable  in 
every  respect  and  excited  in  me  a  profound  interest  and 
curiosity.  I  found  it  impossible  to  comprehend  him 
either  in  his  moral  or  his  physical  relations.  Of  his 
family  I  could  obtain  no  satisfactory  account.  Whence 
he  came,  I  never  ascertained.  Even  about  his  age — 
although  I  call  him  a  young  gentleman — there  was 
something  which  perplexed  me  in  no  little  degree.  He 
certainly  seemed  young,  and  he  made  a  point  of 
speaking  about  his  youth,  yet  there  were  moments 
when  I  should  have  had  little  trouble  in  imagining  him 
a  hundred  years  of  age.  But  in  no  regard  was  he 

245 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

more  peculiar  than  in  his  personal  appearance.  He 
was  singularly  tall  and  thin.  He  stooped  much.  His 
limbs  were  exceedingly  long  and  emaciated.  His  fore 
head  was  broad  and  low.  His  complexion  was  abso 
lutely  bloodless.  His  mouth  was  large  and  flexible,  and 
his  teeth  were  more  wildly  uneven,  although  sound, 
than  I  had  ever  before  seen  teeth  in  a  human  head. 
The  expression  of  his  smile,  however,  was  by  no  means 
unpleasing,  as  might  be  supposed ;  but  it  had  no  varia 
tion  whatever.  It  was  one  of  profound  melancholy  > 
of  a  phaseless  and  unceasing  gloom.  His  eyes  were 
abnormally  large,  and  round  like  those  of  a  cat.  The 
pupils,  too,  upon  any  accession  or  diminution  of  light, 
underwent  contraction  or  dilation,  just  such  as  is  ob 
served  in  the  feline  tribe.  In  moments  of  excitement' 
the  orbs  grew  bright  to  a  degree  almost  inconceivable ; 
seeming  to  emit  luminous  rays,  not  of  a  reflected,  but 
of  an  intrinsic  lustre,  as  does  a  candle  or  the  sun;  yet 
their  ordinary  condition  was  so  totally  vapid,  filmy,  and 
dull  as  to  convey  the  idea  of  the  eyes  of  a  long-interred 
corpse. 

These  peculiarities  of  person  appeared  to  cause  him 
much  annoyance,  and  he  was  continually  alluding  to 
them  in  a  sort  of  half-explanatory,  half-apologetic 
strain  which,  when  I  first  heard  it,  impressed  me  very 
painfully.  I  soon,  however,  grew  accustomed  to  it, 
and  my  uneasiness  wore  off.  It  seemed  to  be  his  de 
sign  rather  to  insinuate  than  directly  to  assert  that, 

246 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

physically,  he  had  not  always  been  what  he  was ;  that 
a  long  series  of  neuralgic  attacks  had  reduced  him 
from  a  condition  of  more  than  usual  personal  beauty 
to  that  which  I  saw.  For  many  years  past  he  had 
been  attended  by  a  physician  named  Templeton,  an 
old  gentleman,  perhaps  seventy  years  of  age,  whom 
he  had  first  encountered  at  Saratoga,  and  from  whose 
attention,  while  there,  he  either  received,  or  fancied 
that  he  received,  great  benefit.  The  result  was  that 
Bedloe,  who  was  wealthy,  had  made  an  arrangement 
with  Dr.  Templeton,  by  which  the  latter,  in  considera 
tion  of  a  liberal  annual  allowance,  had  consented  to 
devote  his  time  and  medical  experience  exclusively  to 
the  care  of  the  invalid. 

Doctor  Templeton  had  been  a  traveller  in  his 
younger  days,  and  at  Paris  had  become  a  convert,  in 
great  measure,  to  the  doctrine  of  Mesmer.  It  was 
altogether  by  means  of  magnetic  remedies  that  he  had 
succeeded  in  alleviating  the  acute  pains  of  his  patient ; 
and  this  success  had  very  naturally  inspired  the  latter 
with  a  certain  degree  of  confidence  in  the  opinions 
from  which  the  remedies  had  been  educed.  The  Doc 
tor,  however,  like  all  enthusiasts,  had  struggled  hard 
to  make  a  thorough  convert  of  his  pupil,  and  finally 
so  far  gained  his  point  as  to  induce  the  sufferer  to  sub 
mit  to  numerous  experiments.  By  a  frequent  repeti 
tion  of  these,  a  result  had  arisen  which  of  late  days  has 
become  so  commor  as  to  attract  little  or  no  attention, 

247 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

but  which,  at  the  period  of  which  I  write,  had  very 
rarely  been  known  in  America.  I  mean  to  say,  that  • 
between  Doctor  Templeton  and  Bedloe  there  had  grown 
up,  little  by  little,  a  very  distinct  and  strongly  marked 
rapport,  or  magnetic  relation.  I  am  not  prepared  to 
assert,  however,  that  this  rapport  extended  beyond  the 
limits  of  the  simple  sleep-producing  power;  but  this 
power  itself  had  attained  great  intensity.  At  the  first 
attempt  to  induce  the  magnetic  somnolency  the  mes 
merist  entirely  failed.  In  the  fifth  or  sixth  he  succeeded 
very  partially  and  after  long-continued  effort.  Only  at 
the  twelfth  was  the  triumph  complete.  After  this  the 
will  of  the  patient  succumbed  rapidly  to  that  of  the 
physician,  so  that,  when  I  first  became  acquainted  with 
the  two,  sleep  was  brought  about  almost  instantane 
ously  by  the  mere  volition  of  the  operator,  even  when 
the  invalid  was  unaware  of  his  presence.  It  is  only 
now,  in  the  year  1845,  when  similar  miracles  are  wit 
nessed  daily  by  thousands,  that  I  dare  venture  to  record 
this  apparent  impossibility  as  a  matter  of  serious  fact. 
The  temperament  of  Bedloe  was  in  the  highest  de 
gree  sensitive,  excitable,  enthusiastic.  His  imagination 
was  singularly  vigorous  and  creative ;  and  no  doubt  it 
derived  additional  force  from  the  habitual  use  of  mor 
phine,  which  he  swallowed  in  great  quantity,  and  with 
out  which  he  would  have  found  it  impossible  to  exist. 
It  was  his  practice  to  take  a  very  large  dose  of  it  imme 
diately  after  breakfast  each  morning,  or,  rather,  im- 

248 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

mediately  after  a  strong  cup  of  coffee,  for  he  ate 
nothing  in  the  forenoon,  and  then  set  forth  alone,  or 
attended  only  by  a  dog,  upon  a  long  ramble  among  the 
chain  of  wild  and  dreary  hills  that  lie  westward  and 
southward  of  Charlottesville  and  are  there  dignified  by 
the  title  of  the  Ragged  Mountains. 

Upon  a  dim,  warm,  misty  day,  toward  the  close  of 
November,  and  during  the  strange  interregnum  of  the 
seasons  which  in  America  is  termed  the  Indian  sum 
mer,  Mr.  Bedloe  departed  as  usual  for  the  hills.  The 
day  passed,  and  still  he  did  not  return. 

About  eight  o'clock  at  night,  having  become  seri 
ously  alarmed  at  his  protracted  absence,  we  were  about 
setting  out  in  search  of  him,  when  he  unexpectedly 
made  his  appearance,  in  health  no  worse  than  usual, 
and  in  rather  more  than  ordinary  spirits.  The  account 
which  he  gave  of  his  expedition  and  of  the  events  which 
had  detained  him  was  a  singular  one  indeed. 

"  You  will  remember,"  said  he,  "  that  it  was  about 
nine  in  the  morning  when  I  left  Charlottesville.  I 
bent  my  steps  immediately  to  the  mountains,  and, 
about  ten,  entered  a  gorge  which  was  entirely  new  to 
me.  I  followed  the  windings  of  this  pass  with  much 
interest.  The  scenery  which  presented  itself  on  all 
sides,  although  scarcely  entitled  to  be  called  grand,  had 
about  it  an  indescribable  and,  to  me,  a  delicious  aspect 
of  dreary  desolation.  The  solitude  seemed  absolutely 
virgin.  I  could  not  help  believing  that  the  green  sods 

249 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

and  the  gray  rocks  upon  which  I  trod  had  been  trodden 
never  before  by  the  foot  of  a  human  being.  So  en 
tirely  secluded,  and  in  fact  inaccessible,  except  through 
a  series  of  accidents,  is  the  entrance  of  the  ravine,  that 
it  is  by  no  means  impossible  that  I  was  indeed  the  first 
adventurer,  the  very  first  and  sole  adventurer  who  had 
ever  penetrated  its  recesses. 

"  The  thick  and  peculiar  mist  or  smoke  which  dis 
tinguishes  the  Indian  summer,  and  which  now  hung 
heavily  over  all  objects,  served,  no  doubt,  to  deepen  the 
vague  impressions  which  these  objects  created.  So 
dense  was  this  pleasant  fog  that  I  could  at  no  time  see 
more  than  a  dozen  yards  of  the  path  before  me.  This 
path  was  excessively  sinuous,  and  as  the  sun  could  not 
be  seen,  I  soon  lost  all  idea  of  the  direction  in  which  I 
journeyed.  In  the  meantime  the  morphine  had  its 
customary  effect,  that  of  enduing  all  the  external 
world  with  an  intensity  of  interest.  In  the  quivering 
of  a  leaf,  in  the  hue  of  a  blade  of  grass,  in  the  shape  of 
a  trefoil,  in  the  humming  of  a  bee,  in  the  gleaming  of 
a  dew-drop,  in  the  breathing  of  the  wind,  in  the  faint 
odors  that  came  from  the  forest — there  came  a  whole 
universe  of  suggestion,  a  gay  and  motley  train  of 
rhapsodical  and  immethodical  thought. 

"  Busied  in  this,  I  walked  on  for  several  hours,  dur 
ing  which  the  mist  deepened  around  me  to  so  great  an 
extent  that  at  length  I  was  reduced  to  an  absolute 
groping  of  the  way.  And  now  an  indescribable  un- 

250 


A   TALE  OF  THE  RAGGED   MOUNTAINS 
"  There  came  a  wild,  jingling  sound,  as  if  of  a  bunch  of  large 
keys,  and  upon  the  instant  a  dusky-visaged,  half-naked  man 
rushed  past  me  with  a  shriek." 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

easiness  possessed  me,  a  species  of  nervous  hesita 
tion  and  tremor.  I  feared  to  tread,  lest  I  should  be 
precipitated  into  some  abyss.  I  remembered,  too, 
strange  stories  told  about  these  Ragged  Hills,  and  of 
the  uncouth  and  fierce  races  of  men  who  tenanted 
their  groves  and  caverns.  A  thousand  vague  fancies 
oppressed  and  disconcerted  me — fancies  the  more  dis 
tressing  because  vague.  Very  suddenly  my  attention 
was  arrested  by  the  loud  beating  of  a  drum. 

"  My  amazement  was,  of  course,  extreme.  A  drum 
in  these  hills  was  a  thing  unknown.  I  could- not  have 
been  more  surprised  at  the  sound  of  the  trump  of  the 
archangel.  But  a  new  and  still  more  astounding 
source  of  interest  and  perplexity  arose.  There  came  a 
wild  rattling  or  jingling  sound,  as  if  of  a  bunch  of  large 
keys,  and  upon  the  instant  a  dusky-visaged  and  half- 
naked  man  rushed  past  me  with  a  shriek.  He  came 
so  close  to  my  person  that  I  felt  his  hot  breath  upon 
my  face.  He  bore  in  one  hand  an  instrument  com 
posed  of  an  assemblage  of  steel  rings  and  shook  them 
vigorously  as  he  ran.  Scarcely  had  he  disappeared  in 
the  mist,  before,  panting  after  him,  with  open  mouth 
and  glaring  eyes,  there  darted  a  huge  beast.  I 
could  not  be  mistaken  in  its  character.  It  was  a 
hyena. 

"  The  sight  of  this  monster  rather  relieved  than 
heightened  my  terrors,  for  I  now  made  sure  that  I 
dreamed,  and  endeavored  to  arouse  myself  to  waking 

251 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  t  Mountains 

consciousness.  I  stepped  boldly  and  briskly  forward. 
I  rubbed  my  eyes.  I  called  aloud.  I  pinched  my 
limbs.  A  small  spring  of  water  presented  itself  to 
my  view,  and  here,  stooping,  I  bathed  my  hands  and 
my  head  and  neck.  This  seemed  to  dissipate  the 
equivocal  sensations  which  had  hitherto  annoyed  me. 
I  arose,  as  I  thought,  a  new  man,  and  proceeded  stead 
ily  and  complacently  on  my  unknown  way. 

"  At  length,  quite  overcome  by  exertion,  and  by  a 
certain  oppressive  closeness  of  the  atmosphere,  I  seated 
myself  beneath  a  tree.  Presently  there  came  a  feeble 
gleam  of  sunshine,  and  the  shadow  of  the  leaves  of  the 
tree  fell  faintly  but  definitely  upon  the  grass.  At  this 
shadow  I  gazed  wonderingly  for  many  minutes.  Its 
character  stupefied  me  with  astonishment.  I  looked 
upward.  The  tree  was  a  palm. 

"  I  now  arose  hurriedly  and  in  a  state  of  fearful 
agitation,  for  the  fancy  that  I  dreamed  would  serve  me 
no  longer.  I  saw,  I  felt  that  I  had  perfect  command 
of  my  senses,  and  these  senses  now  brought  to  my  soul 
a  world  of  novel  and  singular  sensation.  The  heat 
became  all  at  once  intolerable.  A  strange  odor  loaded 
the  breeze.  A  low,  continuous  murmur,  like  that 
arising  from  a  full,  but  gently  flowing  river,  came  to 
my  ears,  intermingled  with  the  peculiar  hum  of  mul 
titudinous  human  voices. 

"  While  I  listened  in  an  extremity  of  astonishment 
which  I  need  not  attempt  to  describe,  a  strong  and 

252 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

brief  gust  of  wind  bore  off  the  incumbent  fog  as  if  by 
the  wand  of  an  enchanter. 

"  I  found  myself  at  the  foot  of  a  high  mountain  and 
looking  down  into  a  vast  plain,  through  which  wound 
a  majestic  river.  On  the  margin  of  this  river  stood  an 
Eastern-looking  city,  such  as  we  read  of  in  the  Arabian 
Tales,  but  of  a  character  even  more  singular  than  any 
there  described.  From  my  position,  which  was  far 
above  the  level  of  the  town,  I  could  perceive  its  every 
nook  and  corner,  as  if  delineated  on  a  map.  The 
streets  seemed  innumerable  and  crossed  each  other 
irregularly  in  all  directions,  but  were  rather  long  wind 
ing  alleys  than  streets,  and  absolutely  swarmed  with 
inhabitants.  The  houses  were  wildly  picturesque.  On 
every  hand  was  a  wilderness  of  balconies,  of  verandas, 
of  minarets,  of  shrines,  and  fantastically  carved  oriels. 
Bazaars  abounded;  and  there  were  displayed  rich 
wares  in  infinite  variety  and  profusion — silks,  muslins, 
the  most  dazzling  cutlery,  the  most  magnificent  jewels 
and  gems.  Besides  these  things  were  seen,  on  all 
sides,  banners  and  palanquins,  litters  with  stately 
dames  close-veiled,  elephants  gorgeously  caparisoned, 
idols  grotesquely  hewn,  drums,  banners,  and  gongs, 
spears,  silver  and  gilded  maces.  And  amid  the  crowd 
and  the  clamor,  and  the  general  intricacy  and  confu 
sion — amid  the  million  of  black  and  yellow  men,  tur- 
baned  and  robed,  and  of  flowing  beard,  there  roamed 
a  countless  multitude  of  holy  filleted  bulls,  while  vast 

253 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

legions  of  the  filthy  but  sacred  ape  clambered,  chatter 
ing  and  shrieking,  about  the  cornices  of  the  mosques, 
or  clung  to  the  minarets  and  oriels.  From  the  swarm 
ing  streets  to  the  banks  of  the  river  there  descended 
innumerable  flights  of  steps  leading  to  bathing-places, 
while  the  river  itself  seemed  to  force  a  passage  with 
difficulty  through  the  vast  fleets  of  deeply  burdened 
ships  that  far  and  wide  encountered  its  surface.  Be 
yond  the  limits  of  the  city  arose,  in  frequent  majestic 
groups,  the  palm  and  the  cocoa,  with  other  gigantic 
and  weird  trees  of  vast  age ;  and  here  and  there  might 
be  seen  a  field  of  rice,  the  thatched  hut  of  a  peasant,  a 
tank,  a  stray  temple,  a  gypsy  camp,  or  a  solitary  grace 
ful  maiden  taking  her  way,  with  a  pitcher  upon  her 
head,  to  the  banks  of  the  magnificent  river. 

"  You  will  say  now,  of  course,  that  I  dreamed;  but 
not  so.  What  I  saw,  what  I  heard,  what  I  felt, 
what  I  thought,  had  about  it  nothing  of  the -unmis 
takable  idiosyncrasy  of  the  dream.  All  was  rigorously 
self-consistent.  At  first,  doubting  that  I  was  really 
awake,  I  entered  into  a  series  of  tests  which  soon  con 
vinced  me  that  I  really  was.  Now,  when  one  dreams, 
and,  in  the  dream,  suspects  that  he  dreams,  the  sus 
picion  never  fails  to  confirm  itself,  and  the  sleeper  is 
almost  immediately  aroused.  Thus  Novalis  errs  not 
in  saying  that  *  we  are  near  waking  when  we  dream 
that  we  dream.1  Had  the  vision  occurred  to  me  as  I 
describe  it,  without  my  suspecting  it  as  a  dream,  then 

254 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

a  dream  it  might  absolutely  have  been,  but,  occurring 
as  it  did,  and  suspected  and  tested  as  it  was,  I  am 
forced  to  class  it  among  other  phenomena." 

"  In  this  I  am  sure  that  you  are  wrong,"  observed 
Dr.  Templeton,  "  but  proceed.  You  arose  and  de° 
scended  into  the  city." 

"  I  arose,"  continued  Bedloe,  regarding  the  Doctor 
with  an  air  of  profound  astonishment, — "  I  arose,  as 
you  say,  and  descended  into  the  city.  On  my  way  I  fell 
in  with  an  immense  populace,  crowding  through  every 
avenue,  all  in  the  same  direction,  and  exhibiting  in 
every  action  the  wildest  excitement.  Very  suddenly, 
and  by  some  inconceivable  impulse,  I  became  intensely 
imbued  w'+h  personal  interest  in  what  was  going  on. 
I  seemed  to  feel  that  I  had  an  important  part  to  play, 
without  exactly  understanding  what  it  was.  Against 
the  crowd  which  environed  me,  however,  I  experienced 
a  deep  sentiment  of  animosity.  I  shrank  from  amid 
them,  and  swiftly,  by  a  circuitous  path,  reached  and 
entered  the  city.  Here  all  was  the  wildest  tumult  and 
contention.  A  small  party  of  men,  clad  in  garments 
half  Indian,  half  European,  and  officered  by  gentlemen 
in  a  uniform  partly  British,  were  engaged,  at  great 
odds,  with  the  swarming  rabble  of  the  alleys.  I  joined 
the  weaker  party,  arming  myself  with  the  weapons  of 
a  fallen  officer,  and  fighting  I  knew  not  whom  with  the 
nervous  ferocity  of  despair.  We  were  soon  overpow 
ered  by  numbers  and  driven  to  seek  refuge  in  a  species 

255 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

of  kiosk.  Here  we  barricaded  ourselves,  and,  for  the 
present,  were  secure.  From  a  loophole  near  the  sum 
mit  of  the  kiosk  I  perceived  a  vast  crowd,  in  furious 
agitation,  surrounding  and  assaulting  a  gay  palace 
that  overhung  the  river.  Presently,  from  an  upper 
window  of  this  palace,  there  descended  an  effeminate- 
looking  person,  by  means  of  a  string  made  of 
the  turbans  of  his  attendants.  A  boat  was  at  hand, 
in  which  he  escaped  to  the  opposite  bank  of  the 
river. 

"  And  now  a  new  object  took  possession  of  my  soul. 
I  spoke  a  few  hurried  but  energetic  words  to  my  com 
panions,  and,  having  succeeded  in  gaining  over  a  few 
of  them  to  my  purpose,  made  a  frantic  s,«»11y  from  the 
kiosk.  We  rushed  amid  the  crowd  that  surrounded  it. 
They  retreated,  at  first,  before  us.  They  rallied,  fought 
madly,  and  retreated  again.  In  the  meantime  we  were 
borne  far  from  the  kiosk,  and  became  bewildered  and 
entangled  among  the  narrow  streets  of  tall,  overhang- 
ing  houses,  into  the  recesses  of  which  the  sun  had 
never  been  able  to  shine.  The  rabble  pressed  impetu 
ously  upon  us,  harassing  us  with  their  spears  and  over 
whelming  us  with  flights  of  arrows.  These  latter  were 
very  remarkable,  and  resembled  in  some  respects  the 
writhing  creese  of  the  Malay.  They  were  made  to 
imitate  the  body  of  a  creeping  serpent,  and  were  long 
and  black,  with  a  poisoned  barb.  One  of  them  struck 
me  upon  the  right  temple.  I  reeled  and  fell.  An  in- 

256 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

stantaneous  and  dreadful  sickness  seized  me.  I 
struggled ;  I  gasped ;  I  died." 

"  You  will  hardly  persist  now,"  said  I,  smiling, 
"  that  the  whole  of  your  adventure  was  not  a  dream. 
You  are  not  prepared  to  maintain  that  you  are  dead  ?  " 

When  I  said  these  words,  I  of  course  expected  some 
lively  sally  from  Bedloe  in  reply ;  but,  to  my  astonish 
ment,  he  hesitated,  trembled,  became  fearfully  pallid, 
and  remained  silent.  I  looked  toward  Templeton. 
He  sat  erect  and  rigid  in  his  chair,  his  teeth  chattered, 
and  his  eyes  were  starting  from  their  sockets.  "  Pro 
ceed  !  "  he  at  length  said  hoarsely  to  Bedloe. 

"  For  many  minutes,"  continued  the  latter,  "  my 
sole  sentiment,  my  sole  feeling,  was  that  of  darkness 
and  nonentity,  with  the  consciousness  of  death.  At 
length  there  seemed  to  pass  a  violent  and  sudden  shock 
through  my  soul,  as  if  of  electricity.  With  it  came  the 
sense  of  elasticity  and  of  light.  This  latter  I  felt,  not 
saw.  In  an  instant  I  seemed  to  rise  from  the  ground. 
But  I  had  no  bodily,  no  visible,  audible,  or  palpable 
presence.  The  crowd  had  departed.  The  tumult  had 
ceased.  The  city  was  in  comparative  repose.  Be 
neath  me  lay  my  corpse,  with  the  arrow  in  my  temple, 
the  whole  head  greatly  swollen  and  disfigured.  But 
all  these  things  I  felt — not  saw.  I  took  interest  in 
nothing.  Even  the  corpse  seemed  a  matter  in  which 
I  had  no  concern.  Volition  I  had  none,  but  appeared 
to  be  impelled  into  motion,  and  flitted  buoyantly  out  of 

VOL.  V.— I?. 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

the  city,  retracing  the  circuitous  path  by  which  I  had 
entered  it.  When  I  had  attained  that  point  of  the 
ravine  in  the  mountains  at  which  I  had  encountered 
the  hyena,  I  again  experienced  a  shock  as  of  a  galvanic 
battery ;  the  sense  of  weight,  of  volition,  of  substance, 
returned.  I  became  my  original  self  and  bent  my 
steps  eagerly  homeward,  but  the  past  had  not  lost  the 
vividness  of  the  real;  and  not  now,  even  for  an  in- 
stant,  can  I  compel  my  understanding  to  regard  it  as  a 
dream." 

"  Nor  was  it,"  said  Templeton,  with  an  air  of  deep 
solemnity,  "  yet  it  would  be  difficult  to  say  how  other 
wise  it  should  be  termed.  Let  us  suppose  only,  that 
the  soul  of  the  man  of  to-day  is  upon  the  verge  of  some 
stupendous  psychal  discoveries.  Let  us  content  our/ 
selves  with  this  supposition.  For  the  rest  I  have  some 
explanation  to  make.  Here  is  a  water-color  drawing, 
which  I  should  have  shown  you  before,  but  which  an 
unaccountable  sentiment  of  horror  has  hitherto  pre 
vented  me  from  showing." 

We  looked  at  the  picture  which  he  presented.  I  saw 
nothing  in  it  of  an  extraordinar)^  character;  but  its 
effect  upon  Bedloe  was  prodigious.  He  nearly  fainted 
as  he  gazed.  And  yet  it  was  but  a  miniature  portrait— 
a  miraculously  accurate  one,  to  be  sure — of  his  own 
very  remarkable  features.  At  least  this  was  my 
thought  as  I  regarded  it. 

"  You  will  perceive,"  said  Templeton,  "  the  date  of 
258 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

this  picture — it  is  here,  scarcely  visible,  in  this  corner— 
1780.  In  this  year  was  the  portrait  taken.  It  is  the 
likeness  of  a  dead  friend — a  Mr.  Oldeb — to  whom  I 
became  much  attached  at  Calcutta  during  the  admin 
istration  of  Warren  Hastings.  I  was  then  only  twenty 
years  old.  When  I  first  saw  you,  Mr.  Bedloe,  at  Sara 
toga,  it  was  the  miraculous  similarity  which  existed 
between  yourself  and  the  painting  which  induced  me 
to  accost  you,  to  seek  your  friendship,  and  to  bring 
about  those  arrangements  which  resulted  in  my  be 
coming  your  constant  companion.  In  accomplishing 
this  point  I  was  urged  partly,  and  perhaps  principally, 
by  a  regretful  memory  of  the  deceased,  but  also,  in 
part,  by  an  uneasy,  and  not  altogether  horrorless  curi 
osity  respecting  yourself. 

"  In  your  detail  of  the  vision  which  presented  itself 
to  you  amid  the  hills,  you  have  described,  with  the 
minutest  accuracy,  the  Indian  city  of  Benares  upon  the 
Holy  River.  The  riots,  the  combat,  the  massacre, 
were  the  actual  events  of  the  insurrection  of  Cheyte 
Sing,  which  took  place  in  1780,  when  Hastings  was  put 
in  imminent  peril  of  his  life.  The  man  escaping  by 
the  string  of  turbans  was  Cheyte  Sing  himself.  The 
party  in  the  kiosk  were  sepoys  and  British  officers, 
headed  by  Hastings.  Of  this  party  I  was  one  and  did 
all  I  could  to  prevent  the  rash  and  fatal  sally  of  the 
officer  who  fell,  in  the  crowded  alleys,  by  the  poisoned 
arrow  of  a  Bengalee.  That  officer  was  my  dearest 

259 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

friend.  He  was  Oldeb.  You  will  perceive  by  these 
manuscripts  "  (here  the  speaker  produced  a  note 
book  in  which  several  pages  appeared  to  have  been 
freshly  written),  "  that  at  the  very  period  in 
which  you  fancied  these  things  amid  the  hills,  I 
was  engaged  in  detailing  them  upon  paper  here  at 
home." 

In  about  a  week  after  this  conversation  the  follow 
ing  paragraphs  appeared  in  a  Charlottesville  paper: 

"  We  have  the  painful  duty  of  announcing  the  death 
of  Mr.  Augustus  Bedlo,  a  gentleman  whose  amiable 
manners  and  many  virtues  have  long  endeared  him  to 
the  citizens  of  Charlottesville. 

"  Mr.  B.,  for  some  years  past,  has  been  subject  to 
neuralgia,  which  has  often  threatened  to  terminate 
fatally ;  but  this  can  be  regarded  only  as  the  immediate 
cause  of  his  decease.  The  proximate  cause  was  one  of 
especial  singularity.  In  an  excursion  to  the  Ragged 
Mountains,  a  few  days  since,  a  slight  cold  and  fever 
were  contracted,  attended  with  great  determination  of 
blood  to  the  head.  To  relieve  this,  Dr.  Templeton 
resorted  to  topical  bleeding.  Leeches  were  applied  to 
the  temples.  In  a  fearfully  brief  period  the  patient 
died,  when  it  appeared  that,  in  the  jar  containing  the 
leeches,  had  been  introduced,  by  accident,  one  of  the 
venomous  vermicular  sangsues  which  are  now  and 
then  found  in  the  neighboring  ponds.  This  creature 
fastened  itself  upon  a  small  artery  in  the  right  temple. 

260 


A  Tale  of  the  Ragged  Mountains 

Its  close  resemblance  to  the  medicinal  leech  caused  the 
mistake  to  be  overlooked  until  too  late. 

**  N.  B. — The  poisonous  sangsue  of  Charlottesville 
may  always  be  distinguished  from  the  medicinal  leech 
by  its  blackness,  and  especially  by  its  writhing  or  ver 
micular  motions,  which  very  nearly  resemble  those  of 
a  snake." 

I  was  speaking  with  the  editor  of  the  paper  in  ques 
tion  upon  the  topic  of  this  remarkable  accident,  when 
it  occurred  to  me  to  ask  how  it  happened  that  the  name 
of  the  deceased  had  been  given  as  Bedlo. 

"  I  presume,"  said  I,  "  you  have  authority  for  this 
spelling,  but  I  have  always  supposed  the  name  to  be 
written  with  an  e  at  the  end." 

"  Authority  ?  no,"  he  replied.  "  It  is  a  mere  typo 
graphical  error.  The  name  is  Bedlo  with  an  e,  all  the 
world  over,  and  I  never  knew  it  to  be  spelt  otherwise 
in  my  life." 

"  Then,"  said  I,  mutteringly,  as  I  turned  upon  my 
heel,  "  then  indeed  has  it  come  to  pass  that  one  truth 
is  stranger  than  any  fiction ;  for  Bedlo,  without  the  e, 
what  is  it  but  Oldeb  conversed!  And  this  man  tells 
me  it  is  a  typographical  error." 


261 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


[Astounding  News  by  Express,  via  Norfolk! — The  Atlantic 
Crossed  in  Three  Days!  Signal  Triumph  of  Mr.  Monck 
Mason's  Flying  Machine !— Arrival  at  Sullivan's  Island,  near 
Charleston,  S.  C.,  of  Mr.  Mason,  Mr.  Robert  Holland,  Mr. 
Henson,  Mr.  Harrison  Ainsworth,  and  Four  Others,  in  the 
Steering  Balloon,  "  Victoria,"  after  a  Passage  of  Seventy-five 
Hours  from  Land  to  Land !  Full  Particulars  of  the  Voyage ! 

The  subjoined  jeu  d'esprit,  with  the  preceding  heading  in 
magnificent  capitals,  well  interspersed  with  notes  of  admira 
tion,  was  originally  published,  as  matter  of  fact,  in  the 
New  York  Sun,  a  daily  newspaper,  and  therein  fully  subserved 
the  purpose  of  creating  indigestible  aliment  for  the  quidnuncs 
during  the  few  hours  intervening  between  a  couple  of  the 
Charleston  mails.  The  rush  for  the  "  sole  paper  which  had 
the  news,"  was  something  beyond  even  the  prodigious;  and, 
in  fact,  if  (as  some  assert)  the  "  Victoria  "  did  not  absolutely 
accomplish  the  voyage  recorded,  it  will  be  difficult  to  assign 
a  reason  why  she  should  not  have  accomplished  it.] 


HE  great  problem  is  at  length  solved!  The 
air,  as  well  as  the  earth  and  the  ocean,  has 
been  subdued  by  science,  and  will  become  a 
common  and  convenient  highway  for  mankind.  The 
Atlantic  has  been  actually  crossed  in  a  balloon!  and 
this,  too,  without  difficulty— without  any  great  appar- 

262 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


ent  danger,  with  thorough  control  of  the  machine,  and 
in  the  inconceivably  brief  period  of  seventy-five  hours 
from  shore  to  shore !  By  the  energy  of  an  agent  at 
Charleston,  S.  C.,  we  are  enabled  to  be  the  first  to  fur 
nish  the  public  with  a  detailed  account  of  this  most 
extraordinary  voyage,  which  was  performed  between 
Saturday,  the  6th  instant,  at  n  A.M.  and  2  P.M.,  on 
Tuesday,  the  gth  instant,  by  Sir  Everard  Bringhurst; 
Mr.  Osborne,  a  nephew  of  Lord  Bentinck's ;  Mr.  Monck 
Mason  and  Mr.  Robert  Holland,  the  well-known  aero 
nauts  ;  Mr.  Harrison  Ainsworth,  author  of  Jack  Shep' 
pardf  etc. ;  and  Mr.  Henson,  the  projector  of  the  late 
unsuccessful  flying  machine — with  two  seamen  from 
Woolwich — in  all,  eight  persons.  The  particulars  fur 
nished  below  may  be  relied  on  as  authentic  and  accu 
rate  in  every  respect,  as,  with  a  slight  exception,  they 
are  copied  verbatim  from  the  joint  diaries  of  Mr. 
Monck  Mason  and  Mr.  Harrison  Ainsworth,  to  whose 
politeness  our  agent  is  also  indebted  for  much  verbal 
information  respecting  the  balloon  itself,  its  construc 
tion,  and  other  matters  of  interest.  The  only  altera 
tion  in  the  MS.  received  has  been  made  for  the  purpose 
of  throwing  the  hurried  account  of  our  agent,  Mr0 
Forsyth,  into  a  connected  and  intelligible  form. 

"  THE  BALLOON 

"  Two  very  decided  failures,  of  late,  those  of  Mr. 
Henson  and  Sir  George  Cayley,  had  much  weakened 

263 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


the  public  interest  in  the  subject  of  aerial  navigation. 
Mr.  Henson's  scheme  (which  at  first  was  considered 
very  feasible  even  by  men  of  science)  was  founded  upon 
the  principle  of  an  inclined  plane,  started  from  an  emi 
nence  by  an  extrinsic  force,  applied  and  continued  by 
the  revolution  of  impinging  vanes,  in  form  and  number 
resembling  the  vanes  of  a  windmill.  But,  in  all  the 
experiments  made  with  models  at  the  Adelaide  Gallery, 
it  was  found  that  the  operation  of  these  fans  not  only 
did  not  propel  the  machine,  but  actually  impeded  its 
flight.  The  only  propelling  force  it  ever  exhibited  was 
the  mere  impetus  acquired  from  the  descent  of  the  in 
clined  plane;  and  this  impetus  carried  the  machine 
farther  when  the  vanes  were  at  rest  than  when  they 
were  in  motion — a  fact  which  sufficiently  demon* 
strates  their  inutility;  and  in  the  absence  of  the  pro 
pelling,  which  was  also  the  sustaining,  power,  the 
whole  fabric  would  necessarily  descend.  This  con 
sideration  led  Sir  George  Cayley  to  think  only  of  adapt 
ing  a  propeller  to  some  machine  having  of  itself  an 
independent  power  of  support — in  a  word,  to  a  balloon; 
the  idea,  however,  being  novel,  or  original,  with  Sir 
George^  only  so  far  as  regards  the  mode  of  its  applica 
tion  to  practice.  He  exhibited  a  model  of  his  inven 
tion  at  the  Polytechnic  Institution.  The  propelling 
principle,  or  power,  was  here,  also,  applied  to  inter 
rupted  surfaces,  or  vanes,  put  in  revolution.  These 
vanes  were  four  in  number,  but  were  found  entirely 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


ineffectual  in  moving  the  balloon  or  in  aiding  its 
ascending  power.  The  whole  project  was  thus  a  com 
plete  failure. 

"  It  was  at  this  juncture  that  Mr.  Monck  Mason 
(whose  voyage  from  Dover  to  Weilburg  in  the  balloon 
*  Nassau,'  occasioned  so  much  excitement  in  1837)  con 
ceived  the  idea  of  employing  the  principle  of  the  Archi 
medean  screw  for  the  purpose  of  propulsion  through 
the  air,  rightly  attributing  the  failure  of  Mr.  Henson's 
scheme,  and  of  Sir  George  Cayley's,  to  the  interruption 
of  surface  in  the  independent  vanes.  He  made  the 
first  public  experiment  at  Willis's  Rooms,  but  after 
ward  removed  his  model  to  the  Adelaide  Gallery. 

"  Like  Sir  George  Cayiey's  balloon,  his  own  was  an 
ellipsoid.  Its  length  was  thirteen  feet  six  inches; 
height,  six  feet  eight  inches.  It  contained  about  three 
hundred  and  twenty  cubic  feet  of  gas,  which,  if  pure 
hydrogen,  would  support  twenty-one  pounds  upon  its 
first  inflation,  before  the  gas  has  time  to  deteriorate  or 
escape.  The  weight  of  the  whole  machine  and  ap 
paratus  was  seventeen  pounds,  leaving  about  four 
pounds  to  spare.  Beneath  the  centre  of  the  balloon 
was  a  frame  of  light  wood,  about  nine  feet  long,  and 
rigged  on  to  the  balloon  itself  was  a  network  in  the 
customary  manner.  From  this  framework  was  sus 
pended  a  wicker  basket  or  car. 

"  The  screw  consists  of  an  axis  of  hollow  brass 
tube,  eighteen  inches  in  length,  through  which,  upon  a 

265 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


semi-spiral  inclined  at  fifteen  degrees,  pass  a  series  of 
steel- wire  radii,  two  feet  long,  and  thus  projecting  a 
foot  on  either  side.  These  radii  are  connected  at 
the  outer  extremities  by  two  bands  of  flattened  wire,  the 
whole  in  this  manner  forming  the  framework  of  the 
screw,  which  is  completed  by  a  covering  of  oiled  silk 
cut  into  gores  and  tightened  so  as  to  present  a  tolerably 
uniform  surface.  At  each  end  of  its  axis  this  screw  is 
supported  by  pillars  of  hollow  brass  tube  descending 
from  the  hoop.  In  the  lower  ends  of  these  tubes  are 
holes  in  which  the  pivots  of  the  axis  revolve.  From 
the  end  of  the  axis  which  is  next  the  car  proceeds  a 
shaft  of  steel,  connecting  the  screw  with  the  pinion  of 
a  piece  of  spring  machinery  fixed  in  the  car.  By  the 
operation  of  this  spring  the  screw  is  made  to  revolve 
with  great  rapidity,  communicating  a  progressive  mo 
tion  to  the  whole.  By  means  of  the  rudder,  the 
machine  was  readily  turned  in  any  direction.  The 
spring  was  of  great  power  compared  with  its  dimen 
sions,  being  capable  of  raising  forty-five  pounds  upon 
a  barrel  of  four  inches  diameter  after  the  first  turn,  and 
gradually  ;ncreasing  as  it  was  wound  up.  It  weighed, 
altogether,  eight  pounds  six  ounces.  The  rudder  was  a 
light  frame  of  cane  covered  with  silk,  shaped  some 
what  like  a  battledore,  and  was  about  three  feet  long, 
and  at  the  widest  one  foot.  Its  weight  was  about  two 
ounces.  It  could  be  turned  flat,  and  directed  upward 
or  downward,  as  well  as  to  the  right  or  left ;  and  thus 

266 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


enabled  the  aeronaut  to  transfer  the  resistance  of  the 
air  which,  in  an  inclined  position  it  must  generate  in  its 
passage,  to  any  side  upon  which  he  might  desire  to  act ; 
thus  determining  the  balloon  in  the  opposite  direction. 

"  This  model  (which,  through  want  of  time,  we  have 
necessarily  described  in  an  imperfect  manner)  was  put 
in  action  at  the  Adelaide  Gallery,  where  it  accomplished 
a  velocity  of  five  miles  per  hour ;  although,  strange  to 
say,  it  excited  very  little  interest  in  comparison  with 
the  previous  complex  machine  of  Mr.  Henson;  so 
resolute  is  the  world  to  despise  anything  which  carries 
with  it  an  air  of  simplicity.  To  accomplish  the  great 
desideratum  of  aerial  navigation,  it  was  very  generally 
supposed  that  some  exceedingly  complicated  applica 
tion  must  be  made  of  some  unusually  profound  prin 
ciple  in  dynamics. 

"  So  well  satisfied,  however,  was  Mr.  Mason  of  the 
ultimate  success  of  his  invention  that  he  determined  to 
construct  immediately,  if  possible,  a  balloon  of  suffi 
cient  capacity  to  test  the  question  by  a  voyage  of  some 
extent — the  original  design  being  to  cross  the  British 
Channel,  as  before,  in  the  *  Nassau  '  balloon.  To  carry 
out  his  views  he  solicited  and  obtained  the  patronage  of 
Sir  Everard  Bringhurst  and  Mr.  Osborne,  two  gentlemen 
well  known  for  scientific  acquirement,  and  espe 
cially  for  the  interest  they  have  exhibited  in  the  pro 
gress  of  aerostation.  The  project,  at  the  desire  of  Mr. 
Osborne,  was  kept  a  profound  secret  from  the  public, 

267 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


the  only  persons  entrusted  with  the  design  being  those 
actually  engaged  in  the  construction  of  the  machine, 
which  was  built  (under  the  superintendence  of  Mr. 
Mason,  Mr.  Holland,  Sir  Everard  Bringhurst,  and  Mr. 
Osborne)  at  the  seat  of  the  latter  gentleman  near  Pen- 
struthal  in  Wales.  Mr.  Henson,  accompanied  by  his 
friend,  Mr.  Ainsworth,  was  admitted  to  a  private  view 
of  the  balloon  on  Saturday  last,  when  the  two  gentle 
men  made  final  arrangements  to  be  included  in  the 
adventure.  We  are  not  informed  for  what  reason  the 
two  seamen  were  also  included  in  the  party;  but  in 
the  course  of  a  day  or  two  we  shall  put  our  readers  in 
possession  of  the  minutest  particulars  respecting  this 
extraordinary  voyage. 

"  The  balloon  is  composed  of  silk,  varnished  with 
the  liquid  gum  caoutchouc.  It  is  of  vast  dimensions, 
containing  more  than  40,000  cubic  feet  of  gas;  but  as 
coal-gas  was  employed  in  place  of  the  more  expensive 
and  inconvenient  hydrogen,  the  supporting  power  of 
the  machine  when  fully  inflated,  and  immediately  after 
inflation,  is  not  more  than  about  2500  pounds.  The 
coal-gas  is  not  only  much  less  costly,  but  is  easily  pro 
cured  and  managed. 

"  For  its  introduction  into  common  use  for  purposes 
of  aerostation  we  are  indebted  to  Mr.  Charles  Green. 
Up  to  his  discovery,  the  process  of  inflation  was  not 
only  exceedingly  expensive,  but  uncertain.  Two  and 
even  three  days  have  frequently  been  wasted  in  futile 

268 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


attempts  to  procure  a  sufficiency  of  hydrogen  to  fill  a 
balloon,  from  which  it  had  great  tendency  to  escape, 
owing  to  its  extreme  subtlety  and  its  affinity  for  the 
surrounding  atmosphere.  In  a  balloon  sufficiently 
perfect  to  retain  its  contents  of  coal-gas  unaltered,  in 
quality  or  amount,  for  six  months,  an  equal  quaatity 
of  hydrogen  could  not  be  maintained  in  equal  purity 
for  six  weeks. 

"  The  supporting  power  being  estimated  at  2500 
pounds,  and  the  united  weights  of  the  party  amounting 
only  to  about  1200,  there  was  left  a  surplus  of  1300,  of 
which,  again,  1200  was  exhausted  by  ballast,  arranged 
in  bags  of  different  sizes,  with  their  respective  weights 
marked  upon  them — by  cordage,  barometers,  tele 
scopes,  barrels  containing  provision  for  a  fortnight, 
water-casks,  cloaks,  carpet-bags,  and  various  other 
indispensable  matters,  including  a  coffee-warmer, 
contrived  for  warming  coffee  by  means  of  slack- 
lime,  so  as  to  dispense  altogether  with  fire,  if  it  should 
be  judged  prudent  to  do  so.  All  these  articles,  with 
the  exception  of  the  ballast  and  a  few  trifles,  were  sus 
pended  from  the  hoops  overhead.  The  car  is  much 
smaller  and  lighter  in  proportion  than  the  one  ap 
pended  to  the  model.  It  is  formed  of  a  light  wicker,  and 
is  wonderfully  strong  for  so  frail-looking  a  machine. 
Its  rim  is  about  four  feet  deep.  The  rudder  is  also  very 
much  larger  in  proportion  than  that  of  the  model ;  and 
the  screw  is  considerably  smaller.  The  balloon  is 

269 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


furnished  besides  with  a  grapnel  and  a  guide-rope; 
which  latter  is  of  the  most  indispensable  importance. 
A  few  words  in  explanation  will  here  be  necessary  for 
such  of  our  readers  as  are  not  conversant  with  the 
details  of  aerostation. 

"  As  soon  as  the  balloon  quits  the  earth  it  is  sub 
jected  to  the  influence  of  many  circumstances  tending 
to  create  a  difference  in  its  weight;  augmenting  or 
diminishing  its  ascending  power.  For  example,  there 
may  be  a  deposition  of  dew  upon  the  silk,  to  the  extent, 
even,  of  several  hundred  pounds ;  ballast  has  then  to 
be  thrown  out,  or  the  machine  may  descend.  This 
ballast  being  discarded,  and  a  clear  sunshine  evaporat 
ing  the  dew,  and  at  the  same  time  expanding  the  gas 
in  the  silk,  the  whole  will  again  rapidly  ascend.  To 
check  this  ascent  the  only  resource  is  (or  rather  was, 
until  Mr.  Green's  invention  of  the  guide-rope)  the  per 
mission  of  the  escape  of  gas  from  the  valve ;  but,  in  the 
loss  of  gas  is  a  proportionate  general  loss  of  ascending 
power;  so  that,  in  a  comparatively  brief  period,  the 
best-constructed  balloon  must  necessarily  exhaust  all 
its  resources  and  come  to  the  earth.  This  was  the 
great  obstacle  to  voyages  of  length. 

"  The  guide-rope  remedies  the  difficulty  in  the  sim 
plest  manner  conceivable.  It  is  merely  a  very  long 
rope  which  is  suffered  to  trail  from  the  car,  and  the 
effect  of  which  is  to  prevent  the  balloon  from  changing 
its  level  in  any  material  degree.  If,  for  example,  there 

370 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


should  be  a  deposition  of  moisture  upon  the  silk,  and 
the  machine  begins  to  descend  in  consequence,  there 
will  be  no  necessity  for  discharging  ballast  to  remedy 
the  increase  of  weight,  for  it  is  remedied,  or  counter 
acted,  in  an  exactly  just  proportion  by  the  deposit  on 
the  ground  of  just  so  much  of  the  end  of  the  rope  as  is 
necessary.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  any  circumstances 
should  cause  undue  levity  and  consequent  ascent,  this 
levity  is  immediately  counteracted  by  the  additional 
weight  of  rope  upraised  from  the  earth.  Thus  the  bal 
loon  can  neither  ascend  nor  descend,  except  within  very 
narrow  limits,  and  its  resources,  either  in  gas  or  ballast, 
remain  comparatively  unimpaired.  When  passing  over 
an  expanse  of  water  it  becomes  necessary  to  employ 
small  kegs  of  copper  or  wood,  filled  with  liquid  ballast 
of  a  lighter  nature  than  water.  These  float  and  serve 
all  the  purposes  of  a  mere  rope  on  land.  Another  most 
important  office  of  the  guide-rope  is  to  point  out  the 
direction  of  the  balloon.  The  rope  drags,  either  on 
land  or  sea,  while  the  balloon  is  free ;  the  latter,  con 
sequently,  is  always  in  advance,  when  any  progress 
whatever  is  made :  a  comparison,  therefore,  by  means 
of  the  compass,  of  the  relative  positions  of  the  two 
objects  will  always  indicate  the  course.  In  the  same 
way  the  angle  formed  by  the  rope  with  the  vertical 
axis  of  the  machine  indicates  the  velocity.  When 
there  is  no  angle — in  other  words,  when  the  rope  hangs 
perpendicularly,  the  whole  apparatus  is  stationary ;  but 

271 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


the  larger  the  angle,  that  is  to  say,  the  farther  the  bal 
loon  precedes  the  end  of  the  rope,  the  greater  the 
velocity;  and  the  converse. 

"  As  the  original  design  was  to  cross  the  British 
Channel  and  alight  as  near  Paris  as  possible,  the  voy 
agers  had  taken  the  precaution  to  prepare  themselves 
with  passports  directed  to  all  parts  of  the  Continent, 
specifying  the  nature  of  the  expedition,  as  in  the  case 
of  the  '  Nassau  '  voyage,  and  entitling  the  adventurers 
to  exemption  from  the  usual  formalities  of  office ;  un 
expected  events,  however,  rendered  these  passports 
superfluous. 

"  The  inflation  was  commenced  very  quietly  at  day 
break,  on  Saturday  morning,  the  6th  instant,  in  the 
courtyard  of  Wheal-Vor  House,  Mr.  Osborne's  seat, 
about  a  mile  from  Penstruthal  in  North  Wales;  and 
at  seven  minutes  past  eleven,  everything  being  ready 
for  departure,  the  balloon  was  set  free,  rising  gently 
but  steadily,  in  a  direction  nearly  south ;  no  use  being 
made,  for  the  first  half-hour,  of  either  the  screw  or  the 
rudder.  We  proceed  now  with  the  journal,  as  tran 
scribed  by  Mr.  Forsyth  from  the  joint  MSS.  of  Mr. 
Monck  Mason  and  Mr.  Ainsworth.  The  body  of  the 
journal^,  as  given,  is  in  the  handwriting  of  Mr.  Mason, 
and  a  P.  S.  is  appended  each  day  by  Mr.  Ainsworth, 
who  has  in  preparation,  and  will  shortly  give  the  pub 
lic,  a  more  minute  and,  no  doubt,  a  thrillingly  interest 
ing  account  of  the  voyage. 

272 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


"  THE  JOURNAL 

"  Saturday,  April  the  6th. — Every  preparation  likely 
to  embarrass  us  having  been  made  overnight,  we  com 
menced  the  inflation  this  morning  at  daybreak;  but 
owing  to  a  thick  fog,  which  encumbered  the  folds  of 
the  silk  and  rendered  it  unmanageable,  we  did  not  get 
through  before  nearly  eleven  o'clock.  Cut  loose,  then, 
in  high  spirits,  and  rose  gently  but  steadily,  with  a 
light  breeze  at  north,  which  bore  us  in  the  direction  of 
the  British  Channel.  Found  the  ascending  force 
greater  than  we  had  expected ;  and  as  we  arose  higher 
and  so  got  clear  of  the  cliffs  and  more  in  the  sun's  rays, 
our  ascent  became  very  rapid.  I  did  not  wish,  how 
ever,  to  lose  gas  at  so  early  a  period  of  the  adventure, 
and  so  concluded  to  ascend  for  the  present.  We  soon 
ran  out  our  guide-rope ;  but  even  when  we  had  raised 
it  clear  of  the  earth,  we  still  went  up  very  rapidly.  The 
balloon  was  unusually  steady,  and  looked  beautifully. 
In  about  ten  minutes  after  starting  the  barometer  in 
dicated  an  altitude  of  15,000  feet.  The  weather  was 
remarkably  fine,  and  the  view  of  the  subjacent  coun 
try,  a  most  romantic  one  when  seen  from  any  point, 
was  now  especially  sublime.  The  numerous  deep 
gorges  presented  the  appearance  of  lakes  on  account 
of  the  dense  vapors  with  which  they  were  filled,  and 
the  pinnacles  and  crags  to  the  southeast,  piled  in  inex 
tricable  confusion,  resembling  nothing  so  much  as  the 

VOL.  v.— 18.  * 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


giant  cities  of  Eastern  fable.  We  were  rapidly  ap 
proaching  the  mountains  in  the  south,  but  our  eleva 
tion  was  more  than  sufficient  to  enable  us  to  pass  them 
in  safety.  In  a  few  minutes  we  soared  over  them  in 
fine  style;  and  Mr.  Ainsworth,  with  the  seamen,  was 
surprised  at  their  apparent  want  of  altitude  when 
viewed  from  the  car,  the  tendency  of  great  elevation 
in  a  balloon  being  to  reduce  inequalities  of  the  surface 
below  to  nearly  a  dead  level.  At  half -past  eleven,  still 
proceeding  nearly  south,  we  obtained  our  first  view  of 
the  Bristol  Channel ;  and  in  fifteen  minutes  afterward 
the  line  of  breakers  on  the  coast  appeared  immediately 
beneath  us,  and  we  were  fairly  out  at  sea.  We  now 
resolved  to  let  off  enough  gas  to  bring  our  guide-rope, 
with  the  buoys  affixed,  into  the  water.  This  was  im 
mediately  done  and  we  commenced  a  gradual  descent. 
In  about  twenty  minutes  our  first  buoy  dipped,  and  at 
the  touch  of  the  second  soon  afterward,  we  remained 
stationary  as  to  elevation.  We  were  all  now  anxious 
to  test  the  efficiency  of  the  rudder  and  screw,  and  we 
put  them  both  into  requisition  forthwith  for  the  pur 
pose  of  altering  our  direction  more  to  the  eastward  and 
in  a  line  for  Paris.  By  means  of  the  rudder  we  in 
stantly  effected  the  necessary  change  of  direction,  and 
our  course  was  brought  nearly  at  right  angles  to  that 
of  the  wind,  when  we  set  in  motion  the  spring  of  the 
screw  and  were  rejoiced  to  find  it  propel  us  readily  as 
desired.  Upon  this  we  gave  nine  hearty  cheers,  and 

274 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


dropped  in  the  sea  a  bottle,  inclosing  a  slip  of  parch 
ment  with  a  brief  account  of  the  principle  of  the  inven 
tion.  Hardly,  however,  had  we  done  with  our  rejoicings 
when  an  unforeseen  accident  occurred  which  discour 
aged  us  in  no  little  degree.  The  steel  rod  connecting 
the  spring  with  the  propeller  was  suddenly  jerked 
out  of  place  at  the  car-end  (by  a  swaying  of  the  car 
through  some  movement  of  one  of  the  two  seamen  we 
had  taken  up),  and  in  an  instant  hung  dangling  out  of 
reach  from  the  pivot  of  the  axis  of  the  screw.  While 
we  were  endeavoring  to  regain  it,  our  attention  being 
completely  absorbed,  we  became  involved  in  a  strong 
current  of  wind  from  the  east,  which  bore  us,  with 
rapidly  increasing  force,  toward  the  Atlantic.  We 
soon  found  ourselves  driving  out  to  sea  at  the  rate  of 
not  less,  certainly,  than  fifty  or  sixty  miles  an  hour,  so 
that  we  came  up  with  Cape  Clear,  at  some  forty  miles 
to  our  north,  before  we  had  secured  the  rod  and  had 
time  to  think  what  we  were  about.  It  was  now  that 
Mr.  Ainsworth  made  an  extraordinary,  but,  to  my 
fancy,  a  by  no  means  unreasonable  or  chimerical  prop 
osition,  in  which  he  was  instantly  seconded  by  Mr. 
Holland,  viz.,  that  we  should  take  advantage  of  the 
strong  gale  which  bore  us  on,  and,  in  place  of  beating 
back  to  Paris,  make  an  attempt  to  reach  the  coast  of 
North  America.  After  slight  reflection  I  gave  a  will 
ing  assent  to  this  bold  proposition,  which  (strange  to 
say)  met  with  objection  from  the  two  seamen  only. 

275 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


As  the  stronger  party,  however,  we  overruled  their 
fears  and  kept  resolutely  upon  our  course.  We  steered 
due  west;  but  as  the  trailing  of  the  buoys  materially 
impeded  our  progress,  and  we  had  the  balloon  abun 
dantly  at  command,  either  for  ascent  or  descent,  we 
first  threw  out  fifty  pounds  of  ballast  and  then  wound 
up  (by  means  of  a  windlass)  so  much  of  the  rope  as 
brought  it  quite  clear  of  the  sea.  We  perceived  the 
effect  of  this  manoeuvre  immediately  in  a  vastly  in 
creased  rate  of  progress;  and,  as  the  gale  freshened, 
we  flew  with  a  velocity  nearly  inconceivable;  the 
guide-rope  flying  out  behind  the  car  like  a  streamer 
from  a  vessel.  It  is  needless  to  say  that  a  very  short 
time  sufficed  us  to  lose  sight  of  the  coast.  We  passed 
over  innumerable  vessels  of  all  kinds,  a  few  of  which 
were  endeavoring  to  beat  up,  but  the  most  of  them 
lying  to.  We  occasioned  the  greatest  excitement  on 
board  all — an  excitement  greatly  relished  by  ourselves, 
and  especially  by  our  two  men,  who  now,  under  the 
influence  of  a  dram  of  Geneva,  seemed  resolved  to  give 
all  scruple  or  fear  to  the  wind.  Many  of  the  vessels 
fired  signal  guns ;  and  in  all  we  were  saluted  with  loud 
cheers  (which  we  heard  with  surprising  distinctness) 
and  the  waving  of  caps  and  handkerchiefs.  We  kept 
on  in  this  manner  throughout  the  day  with  no  mater 
ial  incident,  and  as  the  shades  of  night  closed  around 
us  we  made  a  rough  estimate  of  the  distance  traversed. 
It  could  not  have  been  less  than  five  hundred  miles, 

276 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


and  was  probably  much  more.  The  propeller  was  kept 
in  constant  operation,  and  no  doubt  aided  our  pro 
gress  materially.  As  the  sun  went  down,  the  gale 
freshened  into  an  absolute  hurricane,  and  the  ocean 
beneath  was  clearly  visible  on  account  of  its  phos 
phorescence.  The  wind  was  from  the  east  all  night 
and  gave  us  the  brightest  omen  of  success.  We  suf 
fered  no  little  from  cold,  and  the  dampness  of  the 
atmosphere  was  most  unpleasant;  but  the  ample 
space  in  the  car  enabled  us  to  lie  down,  and  by  means 
of  cloaks  and  a  few  blankets  we  did  sufficiently  well. 

"  P.  S.  [by  Mr.  Ainsworth].  — The  last  nine  hours  have 
been  unquestionably  the  most  exciting  of  my  life.  I 
can  conceive  nothing  more  sublimating  than  the 
strange  peril  and  novelty  of  an  adventure  such  as  this. 
May  God  grant  that  we  succeed !  I  ask  not  success  for 
mere  safety  to  my  insignificant  person,  but  for  the  sake 
of  human  knowledge  and  for  the  vastness  of  the  tri 
umph.  And  yet  the  feat  is  only  so  evidently  feasible 
that  the  sole  wonder  is  why  men  have  scrupled  to 
attempt  it  before.  One  single  gale  such  as  now  be 
friends  us — let  such  a  tempest  whirl  forward  a  balloon 
for  four  or  five  days  (these  gales  often  last  longer)  and 
the  voyager  will  be  easily  borne  in  that  period  from 
coast  to  coast.  In  view  of  such  a  gale  the  broad  Atlan 
tic  becomes  a  mere  lake.  I  am  more  struck,  just  now, 
with  the  supreme  silence  which  reigns  in  the  sea  be 
neath  us,  notwithstanding  its  agitation,  than  with  any 

277 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


other  phenomenon  presenting  itself.  The  waters  give 
up  no  voice  to  the  heavens.  The  immense  flaming 
ocean  writhes  and  is  tortured  uncomplainingly.  The 
mountainous  surges  suggest  the  idea  of  innumerable 
dumb  gigantic  fiends  struggling  in  impotent  agony. 
In  a  night  such  as  is  this  to  me  a  man  lives — lives  a 
whole  century  of  ordinary  life;  nor  would  I  forego 
this  rapturous  delight  for  that  of  a  whole  century  of 
ordinary  existence. 

"Sunday,  the  7th  [Mr.  Mason's  MS.]. — This  morn 
ing  the  gale,  by  ten,  had  subsided  to  an  eight-  or  nine- 
knot  breeze  (for  a  vessel  at  sea),  and  bears  us,  perhaps, 
thirty  miles  per  hour  or  more.  It  has  veered,  however, 

very  considerably  to  the  north,  and  now,  at  sundown, 

• 
we  are  holding  our  course  due  west,  principally  by  the 

screw  and  rudder,  which  answer  their  purposes  to  ad- 
miration.  I  regard  the  project  as  thoroughly  success 
ful  and  the  easy  navigation  of  the  air  in  any  direction 
(not  exactly  in  the  teeth  of  a  gale)  as  no  longer  prob^ 
lematical.  We  could  not  have  made  head  against 
the  strong  wind  of  yesterday;  but,  by  ascending,  we 
might  have  got  out  of  its  influence,  if  requisite.  Against 
a  pretty  stiff  breeze,  I  feel  convinced  we  can  make  our 
way  with  the  propeller.  At  noon  to-day  ascended  to 
an  elevation  of  nearly  25,000  feet  by  discharging  bal 
last.  Did  this  to  search  for  a  more  direct  current,  but 
found  none  so  favorable  as  the  one  we  are  now  in. 
We  have  an  abundance  of  gas  to  take  us  across  this 

278 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


small  pond,  even  should  the  voyage  last  three  weeks. 
I  have  not  the  slightest  fear  for  the  result.  The  diffi 
culty  has  been  strangely  exaggerated  and  misappre 
hended.  I  can  choose  my  current,  and  should  I  find 
all  currents  against  me  I  can  make  very  tolerable  head 
way  with  the  propeller.  We  have  had  no  incidents 
worth  recording.  The  night  promises  fair. 

"  P.  S.  [By  Mr.  Ainsworth].— I  have  little  to  record, 
except  the  fact  (to  me  quite  a  surprising  one)  that,  at 
an  elevation  equal  to  that  of  Cotopaxi,  I  experienced 
neither  very  intense  cold,  nor  headache,  nor  difficulty 
of  breathing;  neither,  I  find,  did  Mr.  Mason,  nor  Mr. 
Holland,  nor  Sir  Everard.  Mr.  Osborne  complained  of 
constriction  of  the  chest,  but  this  soon  wore  off.  We 
have  flown  at  a  great  rate  during  the  day,  and  we  must 
be  more  than  half-way  across  the  Atlantic.  We  have 
passed  over  some  twenty  or  thirty  vessels  of  various 
kinds,  and  all  seem  to  be  delightedly  astonished. 
Crossing  the  ocean  in  a  balloon  is  not  so  difficult  a 
feat,  after  all.  Otnne  ignotum  pro  magnifico,  Mem. : 
at  25,000  feet  elevation  the  sky  appears  nearly  black, 
and  the  stars  are  distinctly  visible ;  while  the  sea  does 
not  seem  convex  (as  one  might  suppose),  but  abso 
lutely  and  most  unequivocally  concave.  * 

1  Note — Mr.  Ainsworth  has  not  attempted  to  account  for  this  phenom 
enon,  which,  however,  is  quite  susceptible  of  explanation.  A  line  dropped 
from  an  elevation  of  25,000  feet,  perpendicularly  to  the  surface  of  the  earth 
(or  sea),  would  form  the  perpendicular  of  a  right-angled  triangle,  of  which 
the  base  would  extend  from  the  right  angle  to  the  horizon,  and  the  hypothe- 
nuse  from  the  horizon  to  the  balloon.  But  the  25,000  feet  of  altitude  is  little 

279 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


"Monday,  the  8th  [Mr.  Mason's  MS.].— This  morn 
ing  we  had  again  some  little  trouble  with  the  rod  of  the 
propeller,  which  must  be  entirely  remodelled,  for  fear 
of  serious  accident — I  mean  the  steel  rod,  not  the 
vanes.  The  latter  could  not  be  improved.  The  wind 
has  been  blowing  steadily  and  strongly  from  the  north 
east  all  day ;  and  so  far  fortune  seems  bent  upon  favor 
ing  us.  Just  before  day  we  were  all  somewhat  alarmed 
at  some  odd  noises  and  concussions  in  the  balloon, 
accompanied  with  the  apparent  rapid  subsidence  of 
the  whole  machine.  These  phenomena  were  occa 
sioned  by  the  expansion  of  the  gas,  through  increase 
of  heat  in  the  atmosphere,  and  the  consequent  disrup 
tion  of  the  minute  particles  of  ice  with  which  the  net 
work  had  become  encrusted  during  the  night.  Threw^ 
down  several  bottles  to  the  vessels  below.  See  one  of 
them  picked  up  by  a  large  ship,  seemingly  one  of  the 
New  York  line  packets.  Endeavored  to  make  out  her 
name,  but  could  not  be  sure  of  it.  Mr.  Osborne's  tele 
scope  made  it  out  something  like  Atalanta,  It  is  now 
twelve  at  night,  and  we  are  still  going  nearly  west  at 
a  rapid  pace.  The  sea  is  peculiarly  phosphorescent. 

or  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  extent  of  the  prospect.  In  other  words, 
the  base  and  hypothenuse  of  the  supposed  triangle  would  be  so  long,  when 
compared  with  the  perpendicular,  that  the  two  former  may  be  regarded  as 
nearly  parallel.  In  this  manner  the  horizon  of  the  aeronaut  would  appear 
to  be  on  a  level  with  the  car.  But,  as  the  point  immediately  beneath  him 
seems,  and  is,  at  a  great  distance  below  him,  it  seems,  of  course,  also,  at  a 
great  distance  below  the  horizon.  Hence  the  impression  of  concavity;  and 
this  impression  must  remain  until  the  elevation  shall  bear  so  great  a  proportion 
to  the  extent  of  prospect,  that  the  apparent  parallelism  of  the  base  and  hypo 
thenuse  disappears — when  the  earth's  real  convexity  must  become  apparent. 

280 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


"  P.  S.  [By  Mr.  Ainsworth]. — It  is  now  two  A.M., 
and  nearly  calm,  as  well  as  I  can  judge,  but  it  is  very 
difficult  to  determine  this  point,  since  we  move  with 
the  air  so  completely.  I  have  not  slept  since  quitting 
Wheal-Vor,  but  can  stand  it  no  longer,  and  must  take 
a  nap,  We  cannot  be  far  from  the  American  coast. 

"  Tuesday,  the  9th  [Mr.  Ainsworth's  MS.].— One 
P.M.  We  are  in  full  view  of  the  low  coast  of  South 
Carolina.  The  great  problem  is  accomplished.  We 
have  crossed  the  Atlantic — fairly  and  easily  crossed  it 
in  a  balloon!  God  be  praised!  Who  shall  say  that 
anything  is  impossible  hereafter  ?  " 

The  Journal  here  ceases.  Some  particulars  of  the 
descent  were  communicated,  however,  by  Mr.  Ains 
worth  to  Mr.  Forsyth.  It  was  nearly  dead  calm  when 
the  voyagers  first  came  in  view  of  the  coast,  which  was 
immediately  recognized  by  both  the  seamen  and  by 
Mr.  Osborne.  The  latter  gentleman  having  acquaint 
ances  at  Fort  Moultrie,  it  was  immediately  resolved  to 
descend  in  its  vicinity.  The  balloon  was  brought  over 
the  beach  (the  tide  being  out  and  the  sand  hard,  smooth, 
and  admirably  adapted  for  a  descent),  and  the  grapnel 
let  go,  which  took  firm  hold  at  once.  The  inhabitants 
of  the  island  and  of  the  fort  thronged  out,  of  course,  to 
see  the  balloon ;  but  it  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty 
that  any  one  could  be  made  to  credit  the  actual  voyage 
— the  crossing  of  the  Atlantic.  The  grapnel  caught  at 

281 


The  Balloon-Hoax 


two  P.M.  precisely;  and  thus  the  whole  voyage  was 
completed  in  seventy-five  hours,  or  rather  less,  count 
ing  from  shore  to  shore.  No  serious  accident  occurred. 
No  real  danger  was  at  any  time  apprehended.  The 
balloon  was  exhausted  and  secured  without  trouble; 
and  when  the  MS.  from  which  this  narrative  is  com 
piled  was  despatched  from  Charleston,  the  party  were 
still  at  Fort  Moultrie.  Their  further  intentions  were 
not  ascertained ;  but  we  can  safely  promise  our  readers 
some  additional  information  either  on  Monday  or  in 
the  course  of  the  next  day  at  furthest. 

This  is  unquestionably  the  most  stupendous,  the 
most  interesting,  and  the  most  important  undertaking 
ever  accomplished  or  even  attempted  by  man.  What 
magnificent  events  may  ensue  it  would  be  useless  now 
to  think  of  determining. 


282 


Mesmeric  Revelation 

HATEVER  doubt  may  still  envelop  the  ration 
ale  of  mesmerism,  its  startling  facts  are  now 
almost  universally  admitted.  Of  these  lat 
ter,  those  who  doubt  are  your  mere  doubters  by  pro 
fession,  an  unprofitable  and  disreputable  tribe.  There 
can  be  no  more  absolute  waste  of  time  than  the  at 
tempt  to  prove,  at  the  present  day,  that  man,  by  mere 
exercise  of  will,  can  so  impress  his  fellow  as  to  cast 
him  into  an  abnormal  condition,  in  which  the  phe 
nomena  resemble  very  closely  those  of  death,  or  at 
least  resemble  them  more  nearly  than  they  do  the 
phenomena  of  any  other  normal  condition  within  our 
cognizance;  that,  while  in  this  state,  the  person  so 
impressed  employs  only  with  effort,  and  then  feebly, 
the  external  organs  of  sense,  yet  perceives,  with  keenly 
refined  perception,  and  through  channels  supposed  un 
known,  matters  beyond  the  scope  of  the  physical 
organs;  that,  moreover,  his  intellectual  faculties 
are  wonderfully  exalted  and  invigorated;  that  his 

283 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


sympathies  with  the  person  so  impressing  him  are 
profound;  and,  finally,  that  his  susceptibility  to  the 
impression  increases  with  its  frequency,  while,  in  the 
same  proportion,  the  peculiar  phenomena  elicited  are 
more  extended  and  more  pronounced. 

I  say  that  these,  which  are  the  laws  of  mesmerism 
in  its  general  features,  it  would  be  supererogation  to 
demonstrate;  nor  shall  I  inflict  upon  my  readers  so 
needless  a  demonstration  to-day.  My  purpose  at 
present  is  a  very  different  one  indeed.  I  am  impelled, 
even  in  the  teeth  of  a  world  of  prejudice,  to  detail, 
without  comment,  the  very  remarkable  substance  of  a 
colloquy  occurring  between  a  sleep-waker  and  myself. 

I  had  been  long  in  the  habit  of  mesmerizing  the 
person  in  question  (Mr.  Vankirk),  and  the  usual  acute 
susceptibility  and  exaltation  of  the  mesmeric  percep 
tion  had  supervened.  For  many  months  he  had  been 
laboring  under  confirmed  phthisis,  the  more  distress 
ing  effects  of  which  had  been  relieved  by  my  manipula 
tions;  and  on  the  night  of  Wednesday,  the  fifteenth 
instant,  I  was  summoned  to  his  bedside. 

The  invalid  was  suffering  with  acute  pain  in  the 
region  of  the  heart  and  breathed  with  great  difficulty, 
having  all  the  ordinary  symptoms  of  asthma.  In 
spasms  such  as  these  he  had  usually  found  relief  from 
the  application  of  mustard  to  the  nervous  centres,  but 
to-night  this  had  been  attempted  in  vain. 

As  I  entered  his  room  he  greeted  me  with  a  cheerful 
284 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


smile,  and  although  evidently  in  much  bodily  pain, 
appeared  to  be,  mentally,  quite  at  ease. 

"  I  sent  for  you  to-night,"  he  said,  "  not  so  much  to 
administer  to  my  bodily  ailment  as  to  satisfy  me  con 
cerning  certain  psychal  impressions  which,  of  late, 
have  occasioned  me  much  anxiety  and  surprise.  I 
need  not  tell  you  how  sceptical  I  have  hitherto  been  on 
the  topic  of  the  souPs  immortality.  I  cannot  deny 
that  there  has  always  existed,  as  if  in  that  very  soul 
which  I  have  been  denying,  a  vague  half-sentiment  of 
its  own  existence.  But  this  half-sentiment  at  no  time 
amounted  to  conviction.  With  it  my  reason  had  no 
thing  to  do.  All  attempts  at  logical  inquiry  resulted, 
indeed,  in  leaving  me  more  sceptical  than  before.  I 
had  been  advised  to  study  Cousin.  I  studied  him  in 
his  own  works  as  well  as  in  those  of  his  European  and 
American  echoes.  The  Charles  Elwood  of  Mr.  Brown- 
son,  for  example,  was  placed  in  my  hands.  I  read  it 
with  profound  attention.  Throughout  I  found  it  logi 
cal,  but  the  portions  which  were  not  merely  logical 
were  unhappily  the  initial  arguments  of  the  disbeliev 
ing  hero  of  the  book.  In  his  summing-up  it  seemed 
evident  to  me  that  the  reasoner  had  not  even  succeeded 
in  convincing  himself.  His  end  had  plainly  forgotten 
his  beginning,  like  the  government  of  Trinculo.  In 
short,  I  was  not  long  in  perceiving  that  if  man  is  to  be 
intellectually  convinced  of  his  own  immortality,  he  will 
never  be  so  convinced  by  the  mere  abstractions  which 

285 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


have  been  so  long  the  fashion  of  the  moralists  of  Eng 
land,  of  France,  and  of  Germany.  Abstractions  may 
amuse  and  exercise,  but  take  no  hold  on  the  mind. 
Here  upon  earth,  at  least,  philosophy,  I  am  per 
suaded,  will  always  in  vain  call  upon  us  to  look  upon 
qualities  as  things.  The  will  may  assent;  the  soul, 
the  intellect,  never. 

"  I  repeat,  then,  that  I  only  half  felt,  and  never  intel 
lectually  believed.  But  latterly  there  has  been  a  cer* 
tain  deepening  of  the  feeling,  until  it  has  come  so 
nearly  to  resemble  the  acquiescence  of  reason  that  J 
find  it  difficult  to  distinguish  between  the  two.  I  an< 
enabled,  too,  plainly  to  trace  this  effect  to  the  mes 
meric  influence.  I  cannot  better  explain  my  meaning 
than  by  the  hypothesis  that  the  mesmeric  exaltation 
enables  me  to  perceive  a  train  of  ratiocination  which, 
in  my  abnormal  existence,  convinces,  but  which,  in 
full  accordance  with  the  mesmeric  phenomena,  doe* 
not  extend,  except  through  its  effect,  into  my  normal 
condition.  In  sleep-waking,  the  reasoning  and  its 
conclusion — the  cause  and  its  effect — are  present  to 
gether.  In  my  natural  state,  the  cause  vanishing,  tiie 
effect  only,  and  perhaps  only  partially,  remains. 

"  These  considerations  have  led  me  to  think  tLat 
some  good  results  might  ensue  from  a  series  of  well- 
directed  questions  propounded  to  me  while  mesmerized. 
You  have  often  observed  the  profound  self-cognizance 
evinced  by  the  sleep- waker — the  extensive  knowledge 

286 


MESMERIC  REVELATION 
"A  few  passes  threw  Mr.  Vankirk  into  the  mesmeric  sleep.' 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


he  displays  upon  all  points  relating  to  the  mesmeric 
condition  itself ;  and  from  this  self-cognizance  may  be 
deduced  hints  for  the  proper  conduct  of  a  catechism." 

I  consented,  of  course,  to  make  this  experiment.  A 
few  passes  threw  Mr.  Vankirk  into  the  mesmeric  sleep. 
His  breathing  became  immediately  more  easy,  and  he 
seemed  to  suffer  no  physical  uneasiness.  The  follow 
ing  conversation  then  ensued,  V.  in  the  dialogue  re 
presenting  the  patient  and  P.  myself. 

P.  Are  you  asleep  ? 

V.  Ifes — no;  I  would  rather  sleep  more  soundly. 

P.  (after  a  few  more  passes)     Do  you  sleep  now  ? 

V.  Yes. 

P.  How  do  you  think  your  present  illness  will  result  ? 

V.  (after  a  long  hesitation  and  speaking  as  if  with 
effort)  I  must  die. 

P.  Does  the  idea  of  death  afflict  you  ? 

V.  ( very  quickly)     No  — no ! 

P.  Are  you  pleased  with  the  prospect  ? 

V.  If  I  were  awake  I  should  like  to  die,  but  now  it  is 
no  matter.  The  mesmeric  condition  is  so  near  death 
as  to  content  me. 

P.  I  wish  you  would  explain  yourself,  Mr.  Vankirk. 

V.  I  am  willing  to  do  so,  but  it  requires  more  effort 
than  I  feel  able  to  make.  You  do  not  question  me 
properly. 

P.  What,  then,  shall  I  ask  ? 

V.  You  must  begin  at  the  beginning. 
287 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


P.  The  beginning !     But  where  is  the  beginning  ? 

V.  You  know  that  the  beginning  is  GOD.  (This 
was  said  in  a  low,  fluctuating  tone,  and  with  every 
sign  of  the  most  profound  veneration*) 

P.  What,  then,  is  God  ? 

V.  (hesitating  for  many  minutes}     I  cannot  tell. 

P.  Is  not  God  spirit  ? 

V.  While  I  was  awake  I  knew  what  you  meant  by 
"  spirit,"  but  now  it  seems  only  a  word — such,  for  in 
stance,  as  truth,  beauty — a  quality,  I  mean. 

P.  Is  not  God  immaterial  ? 

V.  There  is  no  immateriality;  it  is  a  mere  word. 
That  which  is  not  matter,  is  not  at  all,  unless  qualities 
are  things. 

P.  Is  God,  then,  material  ? 

V.  No.     (This  reply  startled  me  very  much.) 

P.  What,  then,  is  he  ? 

V.  (after  a  long  pause >  and  mutteringly)  I  see, 
but  it  is  a  thing  difficult  to  tell.  Another  long  pause. 
He  is  not  spirit,  for  he  exists.  Nor  is  he  matter,  as  you 
understand  it.  But  there  are  gradations  of  matter  of 
which  man  knows  nothing;  the  grosser  impelling  the 
finer,  the  finer  pervading  the  grosser.  The  atmosphere 
for  example,  impels  the  electric  principle,  while  the 
electric  principle  permeates  the  atmosphere.  These 
gradations  of  matter  increase  in  rarity  or  fineness  until 
we  arrive  at  a  matter  unparticled — without  particles, 
indivisible,  one;  and  here  the  law  of  impulsion  and 

288 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


permeation  is  modified.  The  ultimate  or  unparticled 
matter  not  only  permeates  all  things,  but  impels  all 
things ;  and  thus  is  all  things  within  itself.  This  mat 
ter  is  God.  What  men  attempt  to  embody  in  the  word 
"  thought  "  is  this  matter  in  motion. 

P.  The  metaphysicians  maintain  that  all  action  is 
reducible  to  motion  and  thinking,  and  that  the  latter 
is  the  origin  of  the  former. 

V.  Yes ;  and  I  now  see  the  confusion  of  idea.  Mo 
tion  is  the  action  of  mind,  not  of  thinking.  The  un 
particled  matter,  or  God,  in  quiescence,  is  (as  nearly 
as  we  can  conceive  it)  what  men  call  mind.  And  the 
power  of  self-movement  (equivalent  in  effect  to  human 
volition)  is,  in  the  unparticled  matter,  the  result  of  its 
unity  and  omniprevalence ;  how,  I  know  not,  and 
now  clearly  see  that  I  shall  never  know.  But  the  un 
particled  matter,  set  in  motion  by  a  law  or  quality 
existing  within  itself,  is  thinking. 

P.  Can  you  give  me  no  more  precise  idea  of  what 
you  term  the  "  unparticled  matter  ?  " 

V.  The  matters  of  which  man  is  cognizant  escape 
the  senses  in  gradation.  We  have,  for  example,  a 
metal,  a  piece  of  wood,  a  drop  of  water,  the  atmosphere, 
a  gas,  caloric,  electricity,  the  luminiferous  ether.  Now, 
we  call  all  these  things  matter,  and  embrace  all  matter 
in  one  general  definition ;  but  in  spite  of  this  there  can 
be  no  two  ideas  more  essentially  distinct  than  that 
which  we  attach  to  a  metal,  and  that  which  we  attach 

VOL.V.-ig. 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


to  the  luminiferous  ether.  When  we  reach  the  latter, 
we  feel  an  almost  irresistible  inclination  to  class  it  with 
spirit  or  with  nihility.  The  only  consideration  which 
restrains  us  is  our  conception  of  its  atomic  constitu 
tion;  and  here,  even,  we  have  to  seek  aid  from  our 
notion  of  an  atom,  as  something  possessing,  in  infinite 
minuteness,  solidity,  palpability,  weight.  Destroy  the 
idea  of  the  atomic  constitution  and  we  should  no  longer 
be  able  to  regard  the  ether  as  an  entity,  or,  at  least,  as 
matter.  For  want  of  a  better  word  we  might  term  it 
spirit.  Take,  now,  a  step  beyond  the  luminiferous 
ether;  conceive  a  matter  as  much  more  rare  than  the 
ether  as  this  ether  is  more  rare  than  the  metal,  and 
we  arrive  at  once  (in  spite  of  all  the  school  dogmas)  at 
a  unique  mass — an  unparticled  matter.  For  although 
we  may  admit  infinite  littleness  in  the  atoms  them 
selves,  the  infinitude  of  littleness  in  the  spaces  between 
them  is  an  absurdity.  There  will  be  a  point,  there 
will  be  a  degree  of  rarity,  at  which,  if  the  atoms  are 
sufficiently  numerous,  the  interspaces  must  vanish  and 
the  mass  absolutely  coalesce.  But,  the  consideration 
of  the  atomic  constitution  being  now  taken  away,  the 
nature  of  the  mass  inevitably  glides  into  what  we  con 
ceive  of  spirit.  It  is  clear,  however,  that  it  is  as  fully 
matter  as  before.  The  truth  is,  it  is  impossible  to  con 
ceive  spirit,  since  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  what  is 
not.  When  we  flatter  ourselves  that  we  have  formed 
its  conception,  we  have  merely  deceived  our  under- 

290 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


standing  by  the  consideration  of  infinitely  ratified 
matter. 

P.  There  seems  to  me  an  insurmountable  objection 
to  the  idea  of  absolute  coalescence;  and  that  is  the 
very  slight  resistance  experienced  by  the  heavenly 
bodies  in  their  revolutions  through  space — a  resist 
ance  now  ascertained,  it  is  true,  to  exist  in  some  degree, 
but  which  is,  nevertheless,  so  slight  as  to  have  been 
quite  overlooked  by  the  sagacity  even  of  Newton.  We 
know  that  the  resistance  of  bodies  is  chiefly  in  propor 
tion  to  their  density.  Absolute  coalescence  is  absolute 
density.  Where  there  are  no  interspaces,  there  can  be 
no  yielding.  An  ether,  absolutely  dense,  would  put  an 
infinitely  more  effectual  stop  to  the  progress  of  a  star 
than  would  an  ether  of  adamant  or  of  iron. 

V.  Your  objection  is  answered  with  an  ease  which  is 
nearly  in  the  ratio  of  its  apparent  unanswerability. 
As  regards  the  progress  of  the  star,  it  can  make  no  dif 
ference  whether  the  star  passes  through  the  ether  or 
the  ether  through  it.  There  is  no  astronomical  error 
more  unaccountable  than  that  which  reconciles  the 
known  retardation  of  the  comets  with  the  idea  of  their 
passage  through  an  ether;  for,  however  rare  this 
ether  be  supposed,  it  would  put  a  stop  to  all  sidereal 
revolution  in  a  very  far  briefer  period  than  has  been 
admitted  by  those  astronomers  who  have  endeavored 
to  slur  over  a  point  which  they  found  it  impossible  to 
comprehend.  The  retardation  actually  experienced  is, 

2QI 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


on  the  other  hand,  about  that  which  might  be  expected 
from  the  friction  of  the  ether  in  the  instantaneous  pas 
sage  through  the  orb.  In  the  one  case  the  retarding 
force  is  momentary  and  complete  within  itself ;  in  the 
other  it  is  endlessly  accumulative. 

P.  But  in  all  this — in  this  identification  of  mere  mat 
ter  with  God — is  there  nothing  of  irreverence?  (7  was 
forced  to  repeat  this  question  before  the  sleep'waker 
fully  comprehended  my  meaning.) 

V.  Can  you  say  why  matter  should  be  less  rever 
enced  than  mind  ?  But  you  forget  that  the  matter  of 
which  I  speak  is,  in  all  respects,  the  very  "  mind  "  or 
"  spirit  "  of  the  schools,  so  far  as  regards  its  high 
capacities,  and  is,  moreover,  the  "  matter  "  of  these 
schools  at  the  same  time.  God,  with  all  the 
powers  attributed  to  spirit,  is  but  the  perfection  of 
matter. 

P.  You  assert,  then,  that  the  unparticled  matter,  in 
motion,  is  thought. 

V.  In  general,  this  motion  is  the  universal  thought 
of  the  universal  mind.  This  thought  creates.  All 
created  things  are  but  the  thoughts  of  God. 

P.  You  say,  "  in  general." 

V.  Yes.  The  universal  mind  is  God.  For  new  in 
dividualities  matter  is  necessary. 

P.  But  you  now  speak  of  "  mind  "  and  "  matter  " 
as  do  the  metaphysicians. 

V.  Yes— to  avoid  confusion.     When  I  say  "  mind," 

2Q2 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


I  mean  the  unparticled  or  ultimate  matter ;  by  "  mat- 
ter  "  I  intend  all  else. 

P.  You  were  saying  that  "  for  new  individualities 
matter  is  necessary." 

V.  Yes ;  for  mind,  existing  unincorporate,  is  merely 
God.  To  create  individual,  thinking  beings,  it  was 
necessary  to  incarnate  portions  of  the  divine  mind. 
Thus  man  is  individualized.  Divested  of  corporate 
investiture,  he  were  God.  Now  the  particular  motion 
of  the  incarnated  portions  of  the  unparticled  matter  is 
the  thought  of  man ;  as  the  motion  of  the  whole  is  that 
of  God. 

P.  You  say  that  divested  of  the  body  man  will  be 
God? 

V.  (after  much  hesitation},  I  could  not  have  said 
this ;  it  is  an  absurdity. 

P.  (referring  to  my  notes].  You  did  say  that 
"  divested  of  corporate  investiture  man  were 
God." 

V.  And  this  is  true.  Man  thus  divested  would  be 
God — would  be  unindividualized.  But  he  can  never 
be  thus  divested — at  least  never  will  be ;  else  we  must 
imagine  an  action  of  God  returning  upon  itself —  pur 
poseless  and  futile  action.  Man  is  a  creature.  Creat 
ures  are  thoughts  of  God.  It  is  the  nature  of  thought 
to  be  irrevocable. 

P.  I  do  not  comprehend.  You  say  that  man  will 
never  put  off  the  body  ? 

293 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


V.  I  say  that  he  will  never  be  bodiless. 

P.  Explain. 

V.  There  are  two  bodies — the  rudimental  and  the 
complete,  corresponding  with  the  two  conditions  of  the 
worm  and  the  butterfly.  What  we  call  "  death  "  is 
but  the  painful  metamorphosis.  Our  present  incarna 
tion  is  progressive,  preparatory,  temporary.  Our 
future  is  perfected,  ultimate,  immortal.  The  ultimate 
life  is  the  full  design. 

P.  But  of  the  worm's  metamorphosis  we  are  pal 
pably  cognizant. 

V.  We,  certainly,  but  not  the  worm.  The  matter 
of  which  our  rudimental  body  is  composed  is  within 
the  ken  of  the  organs  of  that  body ;  or,  more  distinctly, 
our  rudimental  organs  are  adapted  to  the  matter  of 
which  is  formed  the  rudimental  body ;  but  not  to  that 
of  which  the  ultimate  is  composed.  The  ultimate  body 
thus  escapes  our  rudimental  senses,  and  we  perceive 
only  the  shell  which  falls,  in  decaying,  from  the  inner 
form ;  not  that  inner  form  itself ;  but  this  inner  form, 
as  well  as  the  shell,  is  appreciable  by  those  who  have 
already  acquired  the  ultimate  life. 

P.  You  have  often  said  that  the  mesmeric  state  very 
nearly  resembles  death.  How  is  this  ? 

V.  When  I  say  that  it  resembles  death  I  mean  that 
it  resembles  the  ultimate  life;  for  when  I  am  en 
tranced  the  senses  of  my  rudimental  life  are  in  abey 
ance,  and  I  perceive  external  things  directly,  without 

294 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


organs,  through  a  medium  which  I  shall  employ  in 
the  ultimate,  unorganized  life. 

P.  Unorganized  ? 

V.  Yes;  organs  are  contrivances  by  which  the  in 
dividual  is  brought  into  sensible  relation  with  particu= 
lar  classes  and  forms  of  matter,  to  the  exclusion  of 
other  classes  and  forms.  The  organs  of  man  are 
adapted  to  his  rudimental  condition,  and  to  that  only; 
his  ultimate  condition  being  unorganized,  is  of  unlim 
ited  comprehension  in  all  points  but  one,  the  nature 
of  the  volition  of  God;  that  is  to  say,  the  motion  of 
the  unparticled  matter.  You  will  have  a  distinct  idea 
of  the  ultimate  body  by  conceiving  it  to  be  entire  brain. 
This  it  is  not;  but  a  conception  of  this  nature  will 
bring  you  near  a  comprehension  of  what  it  is.  A  lumi 
nous  body  imparts  vibration  to  the  luminiferous  ether. 
The  vibrations  generate  similar  ones  within  the  retina ; 
these,  again,  communicate  similar  ones  to  the  optic 
nerve.  The  nerve  conveys  similar  ones  to  the  brain; 
the  brain,  also,  similar  ones  to  the  unparticled  matter 
which  permeates  it.  The  motion  of  this  latter  is 
thought,  of  which  perception  is  the  first  undulation. 
This  is  the  mode  by  which  the  mind  of  the  rudimental 
life  communicates  with  the  external  world;  and  this 
external  world  is,  to  the  rudimental  life,  limited, 
through  the  idiosyncrasy  of  its  organs.  But  in  the 
ultimate,  unorganized  life,  the  external  world  reaches 
the  whole  body  (which  is  of  a  substance  having  affinity 

295 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


to  brain,  as  I  have  said)  with  no  other  intervention 
than  that  of  an  infinitely  rarer  ether  than  even  the 
luminif erous ;  and  to  this  ether,  in  unison  with  it, 
the  whole  body  vibrates,  setting  in  motion  the  unpar- 
ticled  matter  which  permeates  it.  It  is  to  the  absence 
of  idiosyncratic  organs,  therefore,  that  we  must  attrib 
ute  the  nearly  unlimited  perception  of  the  ultimate 
life.  To  rudimental  beings,  organs  are  the  cages 
necessary  to  confine  them  until  fledged. 

P.  You  speak  of  rudimental  "  beings."  Are  there 
other  rudimental  thinking  beings  than  man  ? 

V.  The  multitudinous  conglomeration  of  rare  mat 
ter  into  nebulae,  planets,  suns,  and  other  bodies  which 
are  neither  nebulae,  suns,  nor  planets,  is  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  supplying  pabulum  for  the  idiosyncrasy  of 
the  organs  of  an  infinity  of  rudimental  beings.  But 
for  the  necessity  of  the  rudimental,  prior  to  the  ulti 
mate  life,  there  would  have  been  no  bodies  such  as 
these.  Each  of  these  is  tenanted  by  a  distinct  variety 
of  organic,  rudimental,  thinking  creatures.  In  all,  the 
organs  vary  with  the  features  of  the  place  tenanted. 
At  death,  or  metamorphosis,  these  creatures,  enjoying 
the  ultimate  life,  immortality,  and  cognizant  of  all 
secrets  but  the  one,  act  all  things  and  pass  everywhere 
by  mere  volition: — indwelling,  not  the  stars,  which 
to  us  seem  the  sole  palpabilities,  and  for  the  accommo 
dation  of  which  we  blindly  deem  space  created,  but 
that  space  itself,  that  infinity  of  which  the  truly  sub- 

296 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


stantive  vastness  swallows  up  the  star-shadows,  blot 
ting  them  out  as  nonentities  from  the  perception  of 
the  angels. 

P.  You  say  that  "  but  for  the  necessity  of  the  rudi- 
mental  life  there  would  have  been  no  stars. "  But  why 
this  necessity  ? 

V.  In  the  inorganic  life,  as  well  as  in  the  inorganic 
matter  generally,  there  is  nothing  to  impede  the  action 
of  one  simple  unique  law — the  Divine  Volition.  With 
the  view  of  producing  impediment,  the  organic  life  and 
matter  (complex,  substantial,  and  law-encumbered) 
were  contrived. 

P.  But  again :  why  need  this  impediment  have  been 
produced  ? 

V.  The  result  of  law  inviolate  is  perfection,  right, 
negative  happiness.  The  result  of  law  violate  is  im 
perfection,  wrong,  positive  pain.  Through  the  im 
pediments  afforded  by  the  number,  complexity,  and 
substantiality  of  the  laws  of  organic  life  and  matter, 
the  violation  of  law  is  rendered,  to  a  certain  extent, 
practicable.  Thus  pain,  which  in  the  inorganic  life  is 
impossible,  is  possible  in  the  organic. 

P.  But  to  what  good  end  is  pain  thus  rendered  pos 
sible  ? 

V.  All  things  are  either  good  or  bad  by  comparison. 
A  sufficient  analysis  will  show  that  pleasure,  in  all 
cases,  is  but  the  contrast  of  pain.  Positive  pleasure  is 
a  mere  idea.  To  be  happy  at  any  one  point  we  must 

297 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


have  suffered  at  the  same.  Never  to  suffer  would  have 
been  never  to  have  been  blessed.  But  it  has  been 
shown  that,  in  the  organic  life,  pain  cannot  be;  thus 
the  necessity  for  the  organic.  The  pain  of  the  primi 
tive  life  of  earth  is  the  sole  basis  of  the  bliss  of  the 
ultimate  life  in  heaven. 

P.  Still,  there  is  one  of  your  expressions  which  I 
find  it  impossible  to  comprehend,  "  the  truly  substan 
tive  vastness  of  infinity." 

V.  This,  probably,  is  because  you  have  no  suffi 
ciently  generic  conception  of  the  term  "  substance  " 
itself.  We  must  not  regard  it  as  a  quality,  but  as  a 
sentiment:  it  is  the  perception,  in  thinking  beings, 
of  the  adaptation  of  matter  to  their  organization. 
There  are  many  things  on  the  earth  which  would  be  - 
nihility  to  the  inhabitants  of  Venus— many  things  vis-  , 
ible  and  tangible  in  Venus  which  we  could  not  be 
brought  to  appreciate  as  existing  at  all.  But  to  the 
inorganic  beings,  to  the  angels,  the  whole  of  the  un- 
particled  matter  is  substance ;  that  is  to  say,  the  whole 
of  what  we  term  "  space  "  is  to  them  the  truest  sub 
stantiality;  the  stars,  meantime,  through  what  we 
consider  their  materiality,  escaping  the  angelic  sense, 
just  in  proportion  as  the  unparticled  matter,  through 
what  we  consider  its  immateriality,  eludes  the  organic. 

As  the  sleep-waker  pronounced  these  latter  words  in 
a  feeble  tone,  I  observed  on  his  countenance  a  singular 
expression,  which  somewhat  alarmed  me  and  induced 

298 


Mesmeric  Revelation 


me  to  awake  him  at  once.  No  sooner  had  I  done  this, 
than,  with  a  bright  smile  irradiating  all  his  features, 
he  fell  back  upon  his  pillow  and  expired.  I  noticed 
that  in  less  than  a  minute  afterward  his  corpse  had  all 
the  stern  rigidity  of  stone.  His  brow  was  of  the  cold 
ness  of  ice.  Thus,  ordinarily,  should  it  have  appeared, 
only  after  long  pressure  from  AzraePs  hand.  Had  the 
sleep-waker,  indeed,  during  the  latter  portion  of  his 
discourse,  been  addressing  me  from  out  the  region  of 
the  shadows  ? 


299 


The  Premature  Burial 


HERE  are  certain  themes  of  which  the  inter 
est  is  all-absorbing,  but  which  are  too  en 
tirely  horrible  for  the  purposes  of  legitimate 
fiction.  These  the  mere  romanticist  must  eschew,  if  he 
do  not  wish  to  offend  or  to  disgust.  They  are  with 
propriety  handled  only  when  the  severity  and  majesty 
of  truth  sanctify  and  sustain  them.  We  thrill,  for  ex 
ample,  with  the  most  intense  of  "  pleasurable  pain  " 
over  the  accounts  of  the  Passage  of  the  Beresina,  of  the 
Earthquake  at  Lisbon,  of  the  Plague  at  London,  of 
the  Massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  or  of  the  stifling  of 
the  hundred  and  twenty-three  prisoners  in  the  Black 
Hole  at  Calcutta.  But,  in  these  accounts,  it  is  the  fact, 
it  is  the  reality,  it  is  the  history  which  excites.  As  in 
ventions  we  should  regard  them  with  simple  abhor 
rence. 

I  have  mentioned  some  few  of  the  more  prominent 
and  august  calamities  on  record ;  but  in  these  it  is  the 

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extent,  not  less  than  the  character  of  the  calamity  > 
which  so  vividly  impresses  the  fancy.  I  need  not  re 
mind  the  reader  that,  from  the  long  and  weird  cata 
logue  of  human  miseries,  I  might  have  selected  many 
individual  instances  more  replete  with  essential  suffer 
ing  than  any  of  these  vast  generalities  of  disaster.  The 
true  wretchedness,  indeed,  the  ultimate  woe,  is  par 
ticular,  not  diffuse.  That  the  ghastly  extremes  of 
agony  are  endured  by  man  the  unit,  and  never 
by  man  the  mass;  for  this  let  us  thank  a  merciful 
God! 

To  be  buried  while  alive  is,  beyond  question,  the 
most  terrific  of  these  extremes  which  has  ever  fallen 
to  the  lot  of  mere  mortality.  That  it  has  frequently, 
very  frequently,  so  fallen  will  scarcely  be  denied  by 
those  who  think.  The  boundaries  which  divide  life 
from  death  are  at  best  shadowy  and  vague.  Who 
shall  say  where  the  one  ends  and  where  the  other  be 
gins  ?  We  know  that  there  are  diseases  in  which 
occur  total  cessations  of  all  the  apparent  functions  of 
vitality,  and  yet  in  which  these  cessations  are  merely 
suspensions,  properly  so  called.  They  are  only  tem 
porary  pauses  in  the  incomprehensible  mechanism.  A 
certain  period  elapses,  and  some  unseen,  mysterious 
principle  again  sets  in  motion  the  magic  pinions  and 
the  wizard  wheels.  The  silver  cord  was  not  for  ever 
loosed,  nor  the  golden  bowl  irreparably  broken.  But 
where,  meantime,  was  the  soul  ? 

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Apart,  however,  from  the  inevitable  conclusion,  a 
priori,  that  such  causes  must  produce  such  effects; 
that  the  well-known  occurrence  of  such  cases  of  sus 
pended  animation  must  naturally  give  rise,  now  and 
then,  to  premature  interments, — apart  from  this  con 
sideration,  we  have  the  direct  testimony  of  medical  and 
ordinary  experience  to  prove  that  a  vast  number  of 
such  interments  have  actually  taken  place.  I  might 
refer  at  once,  if  necessary,  to  a  hundred  well-authen^ 
ticated  instances.  One  of  very  remarkable  character, 
and  of  which  the  circumstances  may  be  fresh  in  the 
memory  of  some  of  my  readers,  occurred,  not  very 
long  ago,  in  the  neighboring  city  of  Baltimore,  where 
it  occasioned  a  painful,  intense,  and  widely  extended 
excitement.  The  wife  of  one  of  the  most  respectable 
citizens,  a  lawyer  of  eminence  and  a  member  of  Con 
gress,  was  seized  with  a  sudden  and  unaccountable 
illness,  which  completely  baffled  the  skill  of  her  phy 
sicians.  After  much  suffering  she  died,  or  was  sup 
posed  to  die.  No  one  suspected,  indeed,  or  had  reason 
to  suspect,  that  she  was  not  actually  dead.  She  pre 
sented  all  the  ordinary  appearances  of  death.  The 
face  assumed  the  usual  pinched  and  sunken  outline. 
The  lips  were  of  the  usual  marble  pallor.  The  eyes 
were  lustreless.  There  was  no  warmth.  Pulsation 
had  ceased.  For  three  days  the  body  was  preserved 
unburied,  during  which  it  had  acquired  a  stony  rigidity. 
The  funeral,  in  short,  was  hastened  on  account  of  the 

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rapid  advance  of  what  was  supposed  to  be  decomposi 
tion. 

The  lady  was  deposited  in  her  family  vault,  which, 
for  three  subsequent  years,  was  undisturbed.  At  the 
expiration  of  this  term  it  was  opened  for  the  reception 
of  a  sarcophagus;  but,  alas!  how  fearful  a  shock 
awaited  the  husband,  who  personally  threw  open  the 
door!  As  its  portals  swung  outwardly  back,  some 
white-apparelled  object  fell  rattling  within  his  arms. 
It  was  the  skeleton  of  his  wife  hi  her  yet  unmoulded 
shroud. 

A  careful  investigation  rendered  it  evident  that  she 
had  revived  within  two  days  after  her  entombment; 
that  her  struggles  within  the  coffin  had  caused  it  to 
fall  from  a  ledge,  or  shelf,  to  the  floor,  where  it  was  so 
broken  as  to  permit  her  escape.  A  lamp  which  had 
been  accidentally  left,  full  of  oil,  within  the  tomb,  was 
found  empty ;  it  might  have  been  exhausted,  however, 
by  evaporation.  On  the  uppermost  of  the  steps  which 
led  down  into  the  dread  chamber  was  a  large  fragment 
of  the  coffin,  with  which,  it  seemed,  that  she  had  en 
deavored  to  arrest  attention  by  striking  the  iron  door. 
While  thus  occupied  she  probably  swooned,  or  pos 
sibly  died,  through  sheer  terror;  and,  in  falling,  her 
shroud  became  entangled  hi  some  ironwork  which 
projected  interiorly.  Thus  she  remained,  and  thus  she 
rotted,  erect. 

In  the  year  1810  a  case  of  living  inhumation 
3°3 


The  Premature  Burial 


happened  in  France,  attended  with  circumstances  which 
go  far  to  warrant  the  assertion  that  truth  is,  indeed, 
stranger  than  fiction.  The  heroine  of  the  story  was  a 
Mademoiselle  Victorine  Lafourcade,  a  young  girl  of 
illustrious  family,  of  wealth,  and  of  great  personal 
beauty.  Among  her  numerous  suitors  was  Julien 
Bossuet,  a  poor  litterateur,  or  journalist,  of  Paris.  His 
talents  and  general  amiability  had  recommended  him 
to  the  notice  of  the  heiress,  by  whom  he  seems  to  have 
been  truly  beloved ;  but  her  pride  of  birth  decided  her, 
finally,  to  reject  him,  and  to  wed  a  Monsieur  Renelle, 
a  banker  and  a  diplomatist  of  some  eminence.  After 
marriage,  however,  this  gentleman  neglected,  and, 
perhaps,  even  more  positively  ill-treated  her.  Having 
passed  with  him  some  wretched  years,  she  died — at 
least  her  condition  so  closely  resembled  death  as  to 
deceive  everyone  who  saw  her.  She  was  buried — not 
in  a  vault,  but  in  an  ordinary  grave  in  the  village  of 
her  nativity.  Filled  with  despair,  and  still  inflamed 
by  the  memory  of  a  profound  attachment,  the  lover 
journeys  from  the  capital  to  the  remote  province  in 
which  the  village  lies,  with  the  romantic  purpose  of 
disinterring  the  corpse  and  possessing  himself  of  its 
luxuriant  tresses.  He  reaches  the  grave.  At  mid 
night  he  unearths  the  coffin,  opens  it,  and  is  in  the  act 
of  detaching  the  hair,  when  he  is  arrested  by  the  un 
closing  of  the  beloved  eyes.  In  fact,  the  lady  had  been 
buried  alive !  Vitality  had  not  altogether  departed,  and 

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she  was  aroused  by  the  caresses  of  her  lover  from  the 
lethargy  which  had  been  mistaken  for  death.  He  bore 
her  frantically  to  his  lodgings  in  the  village.  He  em 
ployed  certain  powerful  restoratives  suggested  by  no 
little  medical  learning.  In  fine,  she  revived.  She 
recognized  her  preserver.  She  remained  with  him 
until,  by  slow  degrees,  she  fully  recovered  her  original 
health.  Her  woman's  heart  was  not  adamant,  and 
this  last  lesson  of  love  sufficed  to  soften  it.  She  be^ 
stowed  it  upon  Bossuet.  She  returned  no  more  to 
her  husband,  but,  concealing  from  him  her  resurrec 
tion,  fled  with  her  lover  to  America.  Twenty  years 
afterward  the  two  returned  to  France,  in  the  persuasion 
that  time  had  so  greatly  altered  the  lady's  appearance 
that  her  friends  would  be  unable  to  recognize  her. 
They  were  mistaken,  however,  for  at  the  first  meet 
ing  Monsieur  Renelle  did  actually  recognize  and  make 
claim  to  his  wife.  This  claim  she  resisted,  and  a 
judicial  tribunal  sustained  her  in  her  resistance,  decid 
ing  that  the  peculiar  circumstances,  with  the  long 
lapse  of  years,  had  extinguished,  not  only  equitably, 
but  legally,  the  authority  of  the  husband. 

The  Chirurgical  Journal  of  Leipsic,  a  periodical  of 
high  authority  and  merit,  which  some  American  book 
seller  would  do  well  to  translate  and  republish,  records 
in  a  late  number  a  very  distressing  event  of  the  charac 
ter  in  question. 

An  officer  of  artillery,  a  man  of  gigantic  stature  and 


The  Premature  Burial 


of  robust  health,  being  thrown  from  an  unmanageable 
horse,  received  a  very  severe  contusion  upon  the  head, 
which  rendered  him  insensible  at  once ;  the  skull  was 
slightly  fractured,  but  no  immediate  danger  was  ap 
prehended.  Trepanning  was  accomplished  success 
fully.  He  was  bled,  and  many  other  of  the  ordinary 
means  of  relief  were  adopted.  Gradually,  however,  he 
fell  into  a  more  and  more  hopeless  state  of  stupor,  and, 
finally,  it  was  thought  that  he  died. 

The  weather  was  warm,  and  he  was  buried  with 
indecent  haste  in  one  of  the  public  cemeteries.  His 
funeral  took  place  on  Thursday.  On  the  Sunday  fol 
lowing,  the  grounds  of  the  cemetery  were,  as  usual, 
much  thronged  with  visitors,  and  about  noon  an  intense 
excitement  was  created  by  the  declaration  of  a  peasant 
that,  while  sitting  upon  the  grave  of  the  officer  he  had 
distinctly  felt  a  commotion  of  the  earth,  as  if  occa 
sioned  by  some  one  struggling  beneath.  At  first  little 
attention  was  paid  to  the  man's  asseveration ;  but  his 
evident  terror  and  the  dogged  obstinacy  with  which 
he  persisted  in  his  story  had  at  length  their  natural 
effect  upon  the  crowd.  Spades  were  hurriedly  pro 
cured,  and  the  grave,  which  was  shamefully  shallow, 
was  in  a  few  minutes  so  far  thrown  open  that  the  head 
of  its  occupant  appeared.  He  was  then  seemingly 
dead ;  but  he  sat  nearly  erect  within  his  coffin,  the  lid 
of  which,  in  his  furious  struggles,  he  had  partially 
uplifted. 

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The  Premature  Burial 


He  was  forthwith  conveyed  to  the  nearest  hospital 
and  there  pronounced  to  be  still  living,  although  in  an 
asphyctic  condition.  After  some  hours  he  revived, 
recognized  individuals  of  his  acquaintance,  and  hi 
broken  sentences  spoke  of  his  agonies  in  the  grave. 

From  what  he  related,  it  was  clear  that  he  must  have 
been  conscious  of  life  for  more  than  an  hour,  while 
inhumed,  before  lapsing  into  insensibility.  The  grave 
was  carelessly  and  loosely  filled  with  an  exceedingly 
porous  soil;  and  thus  some  air  was  necessarily  ad 
mitted.  He  heard  the  footsteps  of  the  crowd  over 
head,  and  endeavored  to  make  himself  heard  hi  turn. 
It  was  the  tumult  within  the  grounds  of  the  cemetery, 
he  said,  which  appeared  to  awaken  him  from  a  deep 
sleep,  but  no  sooner  was  he  awake  than  he  became 
fully  aware  of  the  awful  horrors  of  his  position. 

This  patient,  it  is  recorded,  was  doing  well,  and 
seemed  to  be  in  a  fair  way  of  ultimate  recovery,  but 
fell  a  victim  to  the  quackeries  of  medical  experiment. 
The  galvanic  battery  was  applied,  and  he  suddenly  ex 
pired  in  one  of  those  ecstatic  paroxysms  which,  occa 
sionally,  it  superinduces. 

The  mention  of  the  galvanic  battery,  nevertheless, 
recalls  to  my  memory  a  well-known  and  very  extraor 
dinary  case  in  point,  where  its  action  proved  the  means 
of  restoring  to  animation  a  young  attorney  of  London 
who  had  been  interred  for  two  days.  This  occurred  in 
1831,  and  created,  at  the  time,  a  very  profound 

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The  Premature  Burial 


sensation  wherever  it  was  made  the  subject  of 
converse. 

The  patient,  Mr.  Edward  Stapleton,  had  died,  appar 
ently,  of  typhus  fever,  accompanied  with  some  anoma 
lous  symptoms  which  had  excited  the  curiosity  of  his 
medical  attendants.  Upon  his  seeming  decease,  his 
friends  were  requested  to  sanction  a  post-mortem  ex 
amination,  but  declined  to  permit  it.  As  often  hap 
pens  when  such  refusals  are  made,  the  practitioners 
resolved  to  disinter  the  body  and  dissect  it  at  leisure  in 
private.  Arrangements  were  easily  effected  with 
some  of  the  numerous  corps  of  body-snatchers  with 
which  London  abounds;  and,  upon  the  third  night 
after  the  funeral,  the  supposed  corpse  was  unearthed 
from  a  grave  eight  feet  deep,  and  deposited  in  the 
operating  chamber  of  one  of  the  private  hospitals. 

An  incision  of  some  extent  had  been  actually  made 
in  the  abdomen,  when  the  fresh  and  undecayed  appear 
ance  of  the  subject  suggested  an  application  of  the 
battery.  One  experiment  succeeded  another,  and  the 
customary  effects  supervened,  with  nothing  to  charac 
terize  them  in  any  respect  except,  upon  one  or  two 
occasions,  a  more  than  ordinary  degree  of  life-likeness 
in  the  convulsive  action. 

It  grew  late.  The  day  was  about  to  dawn;  and  it 
was  thought  expedient,  at  length,  to  proceed  at  once 
to  the  dissection.  A  student,  however,  was  especially 
desirous  of  testing  a  theory  of  his  own,  and  insisted 

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The  Premature  Burial 


upon  applying  the  battery  to  one  of  the  pectoral 
muscles.  A  rough  gash  was  made,  and  a  wire  hastily 
brought  in  contact;  when  the  patient,  with  a  hurried 
but  quite  unconvulsive  movement,  arose  from  the 
table,  stepped  into  the  middle  of  the  floor,  gazed  about 
him  uneasily  for  a  few  seconds,  and  then  spoke. 
What  he  said  was  unintelligible;  but  words  were  ut 
tered  ;  the  syllabification  was  distinct.  Having  spoken, 
he  fell  heavily  to  the  floor. 

For  some  moments  all  were  paralyzed  with  awe,  but 
the  urgency  of  the  case  soon  restored  them  their  pres 
ence  of  mind.  It  was  seen  that  Mr.  Stapleton  was 
alive,  although  in  a  swoon.  Upon  exhibition  of  ether 
he  revived  and  was  rapidly  restored  to  health  and  to  the 
society  of  his  friends,  from  whom,  however,  all  knowl 
edge  of  his  resuscitation  was  withheld  until  a  relapse 
was  no  longer  to  be  apprehended.  Their  wonder,  their 
rapturous  astonishment,  may  be  conceived. 

The  most  thrilling  peculiarity  of  this  incident,  never 
theless,  is  involved  in  what  Mr.  S.  himself  asserts.  He 
declares  that  at  no  period  was  he  altogether  insensible ; 
that,  dully  and  confusedly,  he  was  aware  of  everything 
which  happened  to  him,  from  the  moment  in  which  he 
was  pronounced  dead  by  his  physicians,  to  that  hi 
which  he  fell  swooning  to  the  floor  of  the  hospital. 
"  I  am-  alive, "  were  the  uncomprehended  words  which, 
upon  recognizing  the  locality  of  the  dissecting-room, 
he  had  endeavored,  in  his  extremity,  to  utter. 

3°9 


The  Premature  Burial 


It  were  an  easy  matter  to  multiply  such  histories  as 
these,  but  I  forbear;  for,  indeed,  we  have  no  need  of 
such  to  establish  the  fact  that  premature  interments 
occur.  When  we  reflect  how  very  rarely,  from  the 
nature  of  the  case,  we  have  it  in  our  power  to  detect 
them,  we  must  admit  that  they  may  frequently  occur 
without  our  cognizance.  Scarcely,  in  truth,  is  a  grave 
yard  ever  encroached  upon  for  any  purpose,  to  any 
great  extent,  that  skeletons  are  not  found  in  postures 
which  suggest  the  most  fearful  of  suspicions. 

Fearful  indeed  the  suspicion,  but  more  fearful  the 
doom!  It  may  be  asserted,  without  hesitation,  that 
no  event  is  so  terribly  well  adapted  to  inspire  the  su- 
premeness  of  bodily  and  of  mental  distress  as  is  burial 
before  death.  The  unendurable  oppression  of  the  lungs, 
the  stifling  fumes  of  the  damp  earth,  the  clinging  to  the 
death  garments,  the  rigid  embrace  of  the  narrow 
house,  the  blackness  of  the  absolute  night,  the  silence 
like  a  sea  that  overwhelms,  the  unseen  but  palpable 
presence  of  the  conqueror  worm, — these  things,  with 
the  thoughts  of  the  air  and  grass  above,  with  memory 
of  dear  friends  who  would  fly  to  save  us  if  but  informed 
of  our  fate,  and  with  consciousness  that  of  this  fate 
they  can  never  be  informed,  that  our  hopeless  por 
tion  is  that  of  the  really  dead, — these  considerations,  I 
say,  carry  into  the  heart,  which  still  palpitates,  a  degree 
of  appalling  and  intolerable  horror  from  which  the 
most  daring  imagination  must  recoil.  We  know  of 

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nothing  so  agonizing  upon  earth,  we  can  dream  of 
nothing  half  so  hideous  in  the  realms  of  the  nethermost 
hell.  And  thus  all  narratives  upon  this  topic  have  an 
interest  profound;  an  interest,  nevertheless,  which, 
through  the  sacred  awe  of  the  topic  itself,  very  prop- 
erly  and  very  peculiarly  depends  upon  our  conviction  of 
the  truth  of  the  matter  narrated.  What  I  have  now  to 
tell  is  of  my  own  actual  knowledge,  of  my  own  posi 
tive  and  personal  experience. 

For  several  years  I  had  been  subject  to  attacks  of 
the  singular  disorder  which  physicians  have  agreed  to 
term  catalepsy,  in  default  of  a  more  definitive  title. 
Although  both  the  immediate  and  the  predisposing 
causes,  and  even  the  actual  diagnosis,  of  this  disease 
are  still  mysterious,  its  obvious  and  apparent  charac 
ter  is  sufficiently  well  understood.  Its  variations  seem 
to  be  chiefly  of  degree.  Sometimes  the  patient  lies, 
for  a  day  only,  or  even  for  a  shorter  period,  in  a  species 
of  exaggerated  lethargy.  He  is  senseless  and  exter 
nally  motionless ;  but  the  pulsation  of  the  heart  is  still 
faintly  perceptible ;  some  traces  of  warmth  remain ;  a 
slight  color  lingers  within  the  centre  of  the  cheek; 
and,  upon  application  of  a  mirror  to  the  lips,  we  can 
detect  a  torpid,  unequal,  and  vacillating  action  of  the 
lungs.  Then,  again,  the  duration  of  the  trance  is  for 
weeks — even  for  months;  while  the  closest  scrutiny 
and  the  most  rigorous  medical  tests  fail  to  establish 
any  material  distinction  between  the  state  of  the 


The  Premature  Burial 


sufferer  and  what  we  conceive  of  absolute  death.  Very 
usually  he  is  saved  from  premature  interment  solely 
by  the  knowledge  of  his  friends  that  he  has  been  pre 
viously  subject  to  catalepsy,  by  the  consequent  sus 
picion  excited,  and,  above  all,  by  the  non-appearance 
of  decay.  The  advances  of  the  malady  are,  luckily, 
gradual.  The  first  manifestations,  although  marked, 
are  unequivocal.  The  fits  grow  successively  more  and 
more  distinctive,  and  endure  each  for  a  longer  term 
than  the  preceding.  In  this  lies  the  principal  security 
from  inhumation.  The  unfortunate  whose  first 
attack  should  be  of  the  extreme  character  which  is 
occasionally  seen  would  almost  inevitably  be  con 
signed  alive  to  the  tomb. 

My  own  case  differed  in  no  important  particular 
from  those  mentioned  in  medical  books.  Sometimes, 
without  any  apparent  cause,  I  sank,  little  by  little,  into 
a  condition  of  semi-syncope  or  half  swoon;  and  in 
this  condition,  without  pain,  without  ability  to  stir,  or, 
strictly  speaking,  to  think,  but  with  a  dull,  lethargic 
consciousness  of  life  and  of  the  presence  of  those  who 
surrounded  my  bed,  I  remained  until  the  crisis  of  the 
disease  restored  me  suddenly  to  perfect  sensation.  At 
other  times  I  was  quickly  and  impetuously  smitten.  I 
grew  sick,  and  numb,  and  chilly,  and  dizzy,  and  so  fell 
prostrate  at  once.  Then,  for  weeks,  all  was  void,  and 
black,  and  silent,  and  Nothing  became  the  universe. 
Total  annihilation  could  be  no  more.  From  these  lat- 

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The  Premature  Burial 


ter  attacks  I  awoke,  however,  with  a  gradation  slow  in 
proportion  to  the  suddenness  of  the  seizure.  Just  as 
the  day  dawns  to  the  friendless  and  houseless  beggar 
who  roams  the  streets  throughout  the  long,  desolate 
winter  night, — just  so  tardily,  just  so  wearily,  just  so 
cheerily,  came  back  the  light  of  the  soul  to  me. 

Apart  from  the  tendency  to  trance,  however,  my 
general  health  appeared  to  be  good ;  nor  could  I  per 
ceive  that  it  was  at  all  affected  by  the  one  prevalent 
malady,  unless,  indeed,  an  idiosyncrasy  in  my  ordi 
nary  sleep  may  be  looked  upon  as  superinduced.  Upon 
awaking  from  slumber  I  could  never  gain,  at  once, 
thorough  possession  of  my  senses,  and  always  re 
mained,  for  many  minutes,  in  much  bewilderment  and 
perplexity,  the  mental  faculties  in  general,  but  the 
memory  in  especial,  being  in  a  condition  of  absolute 
abeyance. 

In  all  that  I  endured  there  was  no  physical  suffering, 
but  of  moral  distress  an  infinitude.  My  fancy  grew 
charnel.  I  talked  "  of  worms,  of  tombs,  and  epitaphs." 
I  was  lost  in  reveries  of  death,  and  the  idea  of  prema 
ture  burial  held  continual  possession  of  my  brain.  The 
ghastly  danger  to  which  I  was  subjected  haunted  me 
day  and  night.  In  the  former,  the  torture  of  medita 
tion  was  excessive ;  in  the  latter,  supreme.  When  the 
grim  darkness  overspread  the  earth,  then,  with  every 
horror  of  thought,  I  shook — shook  as  the  quivering 
plumes  upon  the  hearse.  When  nature  could  endure 


The  Premature  Burial 


wakefulness  no  longer,  it  was  with  a  struggle  that  I 
consented  to  sleep,  for  I  shuddered  to  reflect  that,  upon 
awaking,  I  might  find  myself  the  tenant  of  a  grave. 
And  when,  finally,  I  sank  into  slumber,  it  was  only  to 
rush  at  once  into  a  world  of  phantasms,  above  which, 
with  vast,  sable,  overshadowing  wings,  hovered,  pre 
dominant,  the  one  sepulchral  idea. 

From  the  innumerable  images  of  gloom  which  thus 
oppressed  me  in  dreams,  I  select  for  record  but  a  soli 
tary  vision.  Methought  I  was  immersed  in  a  catalep 
tic  trance  of  more  than  usual  duration  and  profundity. 
Suddenly  there  came  an  icy  hand  upon  my  forehead, 
and  an  impatient,  gibbering  voice  whispered  the  word 
"  Arise !  "  within  my  ear. 

I  sat  erect.  The  darkness  was  total.  I  could  not 
see  the  figure  of  him  who  had  aroused  me.  I  could 
call  to  mind  neither  the  period  at  which  I  had  fallen 
into  the  trance,  nor  the  locality  in  which  I  then  lay. 
While  I  remained  motionless  and  busied  in  endeavors 
to  collect  my  thoughts,  the  cold  hand  grasped  me 
fiercely  by  the  wrist,  shaking  it  petulantly,  while  the 
gibbering  voice  said  again : 

"  Arise !  did  I  not  bid  thee  arise  ?  " 
"  And  who,"  I  demanded,  "  art  thou  ?  " 
"  I  have  no  name  in  the  regions  which  I  inhabit," 
replied  the  voice,  mournfully;  "  I  was  mortal,  but  am 
fiend.     I  was  merciless,  but  am  pitiful.     Thou  dost 
feel  that  I  shudder.     My  teeth  chatter  as  I  speak,  yet 


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The  Premature  Burial 


it  is  not  with  the  chilliness  of  the  night,  of  the  night 
without  end.  But  this  hideousness  is  insufferable. 
How  canst  thou  tranquilly  sleep  ?  I  cannot  rest  for 
the  cry  of  these  great  agonies.  These  sights  are  more 
than  I  can  bear.  Get  thee  up!  Come  with  me  into 
the  outer  night  and  let  me  unfold  to  thee  the  graves,, 
Is  not  this  a  spectacle  of  woe  ? — Behold!  " 

I  looked ;  and  the  unseen  figure,  which  still  grasped 
me  by  the  wrist,  had  caused  to  be  thrown  open  the 
graves  of  all  mankind ;  and  from  each  issued  the  faint 
phosphoric  radiance  of  decay ;  so  that  I  could  see  into 
the  innermost  recesses  and  there  view  the  shrouded 
bodies  in  their  sad  and  solemn  slumbers  with  the  worm. 
But,  alas !  the  real  sleepers  were  fewer,  by  many  mil 
lions,  than  those  who  slumbered  not  at  all ;  and  there 
was  a  feeble  struggling;  and  there  was  a  general  and 
sad  unrest;  and  from  out  the  depths  of  the  countless 
pits  there  came  a  melancholy  rustling  from  the  gar 
ments  of  the  buried.  And  of  those  who  seemed  tran 
quilly  to  repose,  I  saw  that  a  vast  number  had  changed, 
in  a  greater  or  less  degree,  the  rigid  and  uneasy  posi 
tion  in  which  they  had  originally  been  entombed.  And 
the  voice  again  said  to  me  as  I  gazed : 

"  Is  it  not — oh !  is  it  not  a  pitiful  sight  ?  "  But, 
before  I  could  find  words  to  reply,  the  figure  had  ceased 
to  grasp  my  wrist,  the  phosphoric  lights  expired,  and 
the  graves  were  closed  with  a  sudden  violence,  while 
from  out  them  arose  a  tumult  of  despairing  cries, 


The  Premature  Burial 


saying  again :    "  Is  it  not — 0  God !  is  it  not  a  very 
pitiful  sight  ?  " 

Phantasies  such  as  these,  presenting  themselves  at 
night,  extended  their  terrific  influence  far  into  my 
waking  hours.  My  nerves  became  thoroughly  un 
strung  and  I  fell  a  prey  to  perpetual  horror.  I  hesi 
tated  to  ride,  or  to  walk,  or  to  indulge  in  any  exercise 
that  would  carry  me  from  home.  In  fact,  I  no  longer 
dared  trust  myself  out  of  the  immediate  presence  of 
those  who  were  aware  of  my  proneness  to  catalepsy, 
lest,  falling  into  one  of  my  usual  fits,  I  should  be  buried 
before  my  real  condition  could  be  ascertained.  I 
doubted  the  care,  the  fidelity  of  my  dearest  friends.  I 
dreaded  that,  in  some  trance  of  more  than  customary 
duration,  they  might  be  prevailed  upon  to  regard  me  as 
irrecoverable.  I  even  went  so  far  as  to  fear  that,  as  I 
occasioned  much  trouble,  they  might  be  glad  to  con 
sider  any  very  protracted  attack  as  sufficient  excuse 
for  getting  rid  of  me  altogether.  It  was  in  vain  they 
endeavored  to  reassure  me  by  the  most  solemn  prom 
ises.  I  exacted  the  most  sacred  oaths,  that  under  no 
circumstances  they  would  bury  me  until  decomposition 
had  so  materially  advanced  as  to  render  further  pres 
ervation  impossible.  And,  even  then,  my  mortal 
terrors  would  listen  to  no  reason,  would  accept  no  con 
solation.  I  entered  into  a  series  of  elaborate  precau 
tions.  Among  other  things  I  had  the  family  vault  so 
remodelled  as  to  admit  of  being  readily  opened  from 

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within.  The  slightest  pressure  upon  a  long  lever  that 
extended  far  into  the  tomb  would  cause  the  iron  portals 
to  fly  back.  There  were  arrangements  also  for  the 
free  admission  of  air  and  light,  and  convenient  recep 
tacles  for  food  and  water  within  immediate  reach  of 
the  coffin  intended  for  my  reception.  This  coffin  was 
warmly  and  softly  padded,  and  was  provided  with  a 
lid,  fashioned  upon  the  principle  of  the  vault-door, 
with  the  addition  of  springs  so  contrived  that  the  fee 
blest  movement  of  the  body  would  be  sufficient  to  set  it 
at  liberty.  Besides  all  this,  there  was  suspended  from 
the  roof  of  the  tomb  a  large  bell,  the  rope  of  which,  it 
was  designed,  should  extend  through  a  hole  in  the 
coffin,  and  so  be  fastened  to  one  of  the  hands  of  the 
corpse.  But,  alas!  what  avails  the  vigilance  against 
the  destiny  of  man  ?  Not  even  these  well-contrived 
securities  sufficed  to  save  from  the  uttermost  agonies 
of  living  inhumation  a  wretch  to  these  agonies  fore 
doomed  ! 

There  arrived  an  epoch,  as  often  before  there  had 
arrived — in  which  I  found  myself  emerging  from  total 
unconsciousness  into  the  first  feeble  and  indefinite 
sense  of  existence.  Slowly,  with  a  tortoise  gradation, 
approached  the  faint  gray  dawn  of  the  psychal  day. 
A  torpid  uneasiness.  An  apathetic  endurance  of  dull 
pain.  No  care,  no  hope,  no  effort.  Then,  after  a 
long  interval,  a  ringing  in  the  ears ;  then,  after  a  lapse 
still  longer,  a  pricking  or  tingling  sensation  in  the 

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extremities ;  then  a  seemingly  eternal  period  of  pleasur 
able  quiescence,  during  which  the  awakening  feelings 
are  struggling  into  thought;  then  a  brief  resinking 
into  nonentity;  then  a  sudden  recovery.  At  length 
the  slight  quivering  of  an  eyelid,  and  immediately 
thereupon  an  electric  shock  of  a  terror,  deadly  and  in 
definite,  which  sends  the  blood  in  torrents  from  the 
temples  to  the  heart.  And  now  the  first  positive 
effort  to  think.  And  now  the  first  endeavor  to 
remember.  And  now  a  partial  and  evanescent  suc 
cess.  And  now  the  memory  has  so  far  regained  its 
dominion  that,  in  some  measure,  I  am  cognizant  of 
my  state.  I  feel  that  I  am  not  awaking  from  ordinary 
sleep.  I  recollect  that  I  have  been  subject  to  cata 
lepsy.  And  now,  at  last,  as  if  by  the  rush  of  an  ocean, 
my  shuddering  spirit  is  overwhelmed  by  the  one  grim 
danger,  by  the  one  spectral  and  ever-prevalent  idea. 

For  some  minutes  after  this  fancy  possessed  me,  I 
remained  without  motion.  And  why  ?  I  could  not 
summon  courage  to  move.  I  dared  not  make  the 
effort  which  was  to  satisfy  me  of  my  fate,  and  yet  there 
was  something  at  my  heart  which  whispered  me  it  was 
sure.  Despair,  such  as  no  other  species  of  wretched 
ness  ever  calls  into  being, — despair  alone  urged  me, 
after  long  irresolution,  to  uplift  the  heavy  lids  of  my 
eyes.  I  uplifted  them.  It  was  dark — all  dark.  I 
knew  that  the  fit  was  over.  I  knew  that  the  crisis  of 
my  disorder  had  long  passed.  I  knew  that  I  had  now 


The  Premature  Burial 


fully  recovered  the  use  of  my  visual  faculties,  and  yet 
it  was  dark — all  dark,  the  intense  and  utter  rayless- 
ness  of  the  night  that  endureth  for  evermore. 

I  endeavored  to  shriek ;  and  my  lips  and  my  parched 
tongue  moved  convulsively  together  in  the  attempt, 
but  no  voice  issued  from  the  cavernous  lungs  which, 
oppressed  as  if  by  the  weight  of  some  incumbent  moun 
tain,  gasped  and  palpitated  with  the  heart  at  every 
elaborate  and  struggling  inspiration. 

The  movement  of  the  jaws  in  this  effort  to  cry  aloud 
showed  me  that  they  were  bound  up,  as  is  usual  with 
the  dead.  I  felt,  too,  that  I  lay  upon  some  hard  sub 
stance;  and  by  something  similar  my  sides  were  also 
closely  compressed.  So  far,  I  had  not  ventured  to  stir 
any  of  my  limbs,  but  now  I  violently  threw  up  my 
arms,  which  had  been  lying  at  length  with  the  wrists 
crossed.  They  struck  a  solid  wooden  substance,  which 
extended  above  my  person  at  an  elevation  of  not  more 
than  six  inches  from  my  face.  I  could  no  longer 
doubt  that  I  reposed  within  a  coffin  at  last. 

And  now,  amid  all  my  infinite  miseries,  came  sweetly 
the  cherub  Hope,  for  I  thought  of  my  precautions.  I 
writhed  and  made  spasmodic  exertions  to  force  open 
the  lid:  it  would  not  move.  I  felt  my  wrists  for  the 
bell-rope :  it  was  not  to  be  found.  And  now  the  Com 
forter  fled  for  ever,  and  a  still  sterner  despair  reigned 
triumphant;  for  I  could  not  help  perceiving  the 
absence  of  the  paddings  which  I  had  so  carefully 


The  Premature  Burial 


prepared,  and  then,  too,  there  came  suddenly  to  my 
nostrils  the  strong,  peculiar  odor  of  moist  earth.  The 
conclusion  was  irresistible :  I  was  not  within  the  vault. 
I  had  fallen  into  a  trance  while  absent  from  home, 
while  among  strangers,  when,  or  how,  I  could  not 
remember;  and  it  was  they  who  had  buried  me  as  a 
dog,  nailed  up  in  some  common  coffin,  and  thrust  deep, 
deep,  and  for  ever,  into  some  ordinary  and  nameless 
grave. 

As  this  awful  conviction  forced  itself  thus  into  the 
innermost  chambers  of  my  soul,  I  once  again  struggled 
to  cry  aloud.  And  in  this  second  endeavor  I  suc 
ceeded.  A  long,  wild,  and  continuous  shriek  or  yell 
of  agony  resounded  through  the  realms  of  the  sub 
terranean  night. 

"  Hillo !  hillo,  there !  "  said  a  gruff  voice,  in  reply. 

"  What  the  devil 's  the  matter  now  ?  "  said  a  second, 

"  Get  out  o;  that!  "  said  a  third. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  yowling  in  that  ere  kind  of 
style,  like  a  cattymount  ?  "  said  a  fourth ;  and  here 
upon  I  was  seized  and  shaken  without  ceremony  for 
several  minutes  by  a  junto  of  very  rough-looking  in 
dividuals.  They  did  not  arouse  me  from  my  slumber, 
for  I  was  wide  awake  when  I  screamed,  but  they  re 
stored  me  to  the  full  possession  of  my  memory. 

This  adventure  occurred  near  Richmond,  in  Virginia. 
Accompanied  by  a  friend,  I  had  proceeded  upon  a  gun 
ning  expedition  some  miles  down  the  banks  of  the 

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James  River.  Night  approached  and  we  were  over 
taken  by  a  storm.  The  cabin  of  a  small  sloop  lying  at 
anchor  in  the  stream,  and  laden  with  garden  mould, 
afforded  us  the  only  available  shelter.  We  made  the 
best  of  it  and  passed  the  night  on  board.  I  slept  in  one 
of  the  only  two  berths  in  the  vessel ;  and  the  berths  of 
a  sloop  of  sixty  or  seventy  tons  need  scarcely  be  de 
scribed.  That  which  I  occupied  had  no  bedding  of  any 
kind.  Its  extreme  width  was  eighteen  inches.  The 
distance  of  its  bottom  from  the  deck  overhead  was  pre 
cisely  the  same.  I  found  it  a  matter  of  exceeding  diffi 
culty  to  squeeze  myself  in.  Nevertheless,  I  slept 
soundly;  and  the  whole  of  my  vision,  for  it  was  no 
dream  and  no  nightmare,  arose  naturally  from  the 
circumstances  of  my  position,  from  my  ordinary  bias 
of  thought,  and  from  the  difficulty,  to  which  I  have 
alluded,  of  collecting  my  senses,  and  especially  of  re 
gaining  my  memory,  for  a  long  time  after  awaking 
from  slumber.  The  men  who  shook  me  were  the  crew 
of  the  sloop  and  some  laborers  engaged  to  unload  it. 
From  the  load  itself  came  the  earthy  smell.  The  ban 
dage  about  the  jaws  was  a  silk  handkerchief  in  which 
I  had  bound  up  my  head  in  default  of  my  customary 
nightcap. 

The  tortures  endured,  however,  were  indubitably 
quite  equal,  for  the  time,  to  those  of  actual  sepulture. 
They  were  fearfully,  they  were  inconceivably  hideous; 
but  out  of  evil  proceeded  good  for  their  very  excess 


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wrought  in  my  spirit  an  inevitable  revulsion.  My  soul 
acquired  tone,  acquired  temper.  I  went  abroad.  I 
took  vigorous  exercise.  I  breathed  the  free  air  of 
heaven.  I  thought  upon  other  subjects  than  death. 
I  discarded  my  medical  books.  Buchan  I  burned.  I 
read  no  Night  Thoughts,  no  fustian  about  church 
yards,  no  bugaboo  tales  such  as  this.  In  short,  I  be 
came  a  new  man  and  lived  a  man's  life.  From  that 
memorable  night  I  dismissed  forever  my  charnel 
apprehensions,  and  with  them  vanished  the  cataleptic 
disorder,  of  which,  perhaps,  they  had  been  less  the 
consequence  than  the  cause. 

There  are  moments  when,  even  to  the  sober  eye  of 
reason,  the  world  of  our  sad  humanity  may  assume  the 
semblance  of  a  hell,  but  the  imagination  of  man  is  no 
Carathis,  to  explore  with  impunity  its  every  cavern. 
Alas!  the  grim  legion  of  sepulchral  terrors  cannot  be 
regarded  as  altogether  fanciful;  but,  like  the  demons 
in  whose  company  Afrasiab  made  his  voyage  down  the 
Oxus,  they  must  sleep  or  they  will  devour  us;  they 
must  be  suffered  to  slumber,  or  we  perish. 


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OME  years  ago  I  engaged  passage  from 
Charleston,  S.  C.,  to  the  city  of  New  York, 
in  the  fine  packet-ship  Independence,  Cap 
tain  Hardy.  We  were  to  sail  on  the  fifteenth  of  the 
month  (June),  weather  permitting;  and  on  the  four 
teenth  I  went  on  board  to  arrange  some  matters  in  my 
stateroom. 

I  found  that  we  were  to  have  a  great  many  passen 
gers,  including  a  more  than  usual  number  of  ladies. 
On  the  list  were  several  of  my  acquaintances;  and 
among  other  names  I  was  rejoiced  to  see  that  of  Mr. 
Cornelius  Wyatt,  a  young  artist,  for  whom  I  enter 
tained  feelings  of  warm  friendship.  He  had  been,  with 

me,  a  fellow-student  at  C University,  where  we 

were  very  much  together.  He  had  the  ordinary  tem 
perament  of  genius,  and  was  a  compound  of  misan 
thropy,  sensibility,  and  enthusiasm.  To  these  qualities 
he  united  the  warmest  and  truest  heart  which  ever  beat 
in  a  human  bosonio 

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I  observed  that  his  name  was  carded  upon  three 
staterooms:  and  upon  again  referring  to  the  list  of 
passengers  I  found  that  he  had  engaged  passage  for 
himself,  wife,  and  two  sisters — his  own.  The  state 
rooms  were  sufficiently  roomy,  and  each  had  two 
berths,  one  above  the  other.  These  berths,  to  be  sure, 
were  so  exceedingly  narrow  as  to  be  insufficient  for 
more  than  one  person;  still,  I  could  not  comprehend 
why  there  were  three  staterooms  for  these  four  per 
sons.  I  was,  just  at  that  epoch,  in  one  of  those  moody 
frames  of  mind  which  make  a  man  abnormally  in 
quisitive  about  trifles :  and  I  confess  with  shame  that 
I  busied  myself  in  a  variety  of  ill-bred  and  preposterous 
conjectures  about  this  matter  of  the  supernumerary 
stateroom.  It  was  no  business  of  mine,  to  be  sure; 
but  with  none  the  less  pertinacity  did  I  occupy  myself 
in  attempts  to  resolve  the  enigma.  At  last  I  reached 
a  conclusion  which  wrought  in  me  great  wonder  why 
I  had  not  arrived  at  it  before.  "It  is  a  servant,  of 
course,"  I  said ;  "  what  a  fool  I  am  not  sooner  to  have 
thought  of  so  obvious  a  solution!  "  And  then  I  again 
repaired  to  the  list,  but  here  I  saw  distinctly  that  no 
servant  was  to  come  with  the  party :  although,  in  fact, 
it  had  been  the  original  design  to  bring  one,  for  the 
words  "  and  servant  "  had  been  first  written  and  then 
overscored.  "  Oh,  extra  baggage,  to  be  sure,"  I  now 
said  to  myself ;  "  something  he  wishes  not  to  be  put  in 
the  hold,  something  to  be  kept  under  his  own  eye, — • 


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ah,  I  have  it !  a  painting  or  so,  and  this  is  what  he 
has  been  bargaining  about  with  Nicolino,  the  Italian 
Jew."  This  idea  satisfied  me  and  I  dismissed  my 
curiosity  for  the  nonce. 

Wyatt's  two  sisters  I  knew  very  well,  and  most  ami 
able  and  clever  girls  they  were.  His  wife  he  had 
newly  married,  and  I  had  never  yet  seen  her.  He  had 
often  talked  about  her  in  my  presence,  however,  and  hi 
his  usual  style  of  enthusiasm.  He  described  her  as  of 
surpassing  beauty,  wit,  and  accomplishment.  I  was, 
therefore,  quite  anxious  to  make  her  acquaintance. 

On  the  day  in  which  I  visited  the  ship  (the  four 
teenth),  Wyatt  and  party  were  also  to  visit  it,  so  the 
Captain  informed  me,  and  I  waited  on  board  an  hour 
longer  than  I  had  designed  in  hope  of  being  pre 
sented  to  the  bride;  but  then  an  apology  came. 
"  Mrs.  W.  was  a  little  indisposed,  and  would  decline 
coming  on  board  until  to-morrow  at  the  hour  of 
sailing." 

The  morrow  having  arrived,  I  was  going  from  my 
hotel  to  the  wharf,  when  Captain  Hardy  met  me  and 
said  that,  "  owing  to  circumstances  "  (a  stupid  but 
convenient  phrase),  "  he  rather  thought  the  Indepens 
dence  would  not  sail  for  a  day  or  two,  and  that  when 
all  was  ready  he  would  send  up  and  let  me  know." 
This  I  thought  strange,  for  there  was  a  stiff  southerly 
breeze ;  but  as  "  the  circumstances  "  were  not  forth 
coming,  although  I  pumped  for  them  with  much 

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perseverance,  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  return  home 
and  digest  my  impatience  at  leisure. 

I  did  not  receive  the  expected  message  from  the  Cap 
tain  for  nearly  a  week.  It  came  at  length,  however, 
and  I  immediately  went  on  board.  The  ship  was 
crowded  with  passengers,  and  everything  was  in  the 
bustle  attendant  upon  making  sail.  Wyatt's  party 
arrived  in  about  ten  minutes  after  myself.  There  were 
the  two  sisters,  the  bride,  and  the  artist— the  latter  in 
one  of  his  customary  fits  of  moody  misanthropy.  I 
was  too  well  used  to  these,  however,  to  pay  them  any 
special  attention.  He  did  not  even  introduce  me  to 
his  wife ;  this  courtesy  devolving,  perforce,  upon  his 
sister  Marian,  a  very  sweet  and  intelligent  girl,  who  in 
a  few  hurried  words  made  us  acquainted. 

Mrs.  Wyatt  had  been  closely  veiled;  and  when  she 
raised  her  veil  in  acknowledging  my  bow,  I  confess 
that  I  was  very  profoundly  astonished.  I  should  have 
been  much  more  so,  however,  had  not  long  experience 
advised  me  not  to  trust,  with  too  implicit  a  reliance, 
the  enthusiastic  descriptions  of  my  friend  the  artist, 
when  indulging  in  comments  upon  the  loveliness  of 
woman.  When  beauty  was  the  theme,  I  well  knew 
with  what  facility  he  soared  into  the  regions  of  the 
purely  ideal. 

The  truth  is,  I  could  not  help  regarding  Mrs.  Wyatt 
as  a  decidedly  plain-looking  woman.  If  not  positively 
ugly,  she  was  not,  I  think,  very  far  from  it.  She  was 

3*6 


The  Oblong  Box 

dressed,  however,  in  exquisite  taste,  and  then  I  had  no 
doubt  that  she  had  captivated  my  friend's  heart  by  the 
more  enduring  graces  of  the  intellect  and  soul.  She 
said  very  few  words,  and  passed  at  once  into  her  state 
room  with  Mr.  W. 

My  old  inquisitiveness  now  returned.  There  was  no 
servant,  that  was  a  settled  point.  I  looked,  there 
fore,  for  the  extra  baggage.  After  some  delay  a  cart 
arrived  at  the  wharf  with  an  oblong  pine  box,  which 
was  everything  that  seemed  to  be  expected.  Imme 
diately  upon  its  arrival  we  made  sail,  and  in  a  short 
time  were  safely  over  the  bar  and  standing  out  to  sea. 

The  box  in  question  was,  as  I  say,  oblong.  It  was 
about  six  feet  in  length  by  two  and  a  half  hi  breadth : 
I  observed  it  attentively  and  like  to  be  precise.  Now, 
this  shape  was  peculiar;  and  no  sooner  had  I  seen  it 
than  I  took  credit  to  myself  for  the  accuracy  of  my 
guessing.  I  had  reached  the  conclusion,  it  will  be 
remembered,  that  the  extra  baggage  of  my  friend  the 
artist  would  prove  to  be  pictures,  or  at  least  a  picture, 
for  I  knew  he  had  been  for  several  weeks  in  conference 
with  Nicolino ;  and  now  here  was  a  box,  which,  from 
its  shape,  could  possibly  contain  nothing  in  the  world 
but  a  copy  of  Leonardo's  Last  Supper/  and  a  copy  of 
this  very  Last  Supper,  done  by  Rubini  the  younger  at 
Florence,  I  had  known  for  some  time  to  be  in  the  pos 
session  of  Nicolino.  This  point,  therefore,  I  consid 
ered  as  sufficiently  settled.  I  chuckled  excessively 

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The  Oblong  Box 

when  I  thought  of  my  acumen.  It  was  the  first  time  I 
had  ever  known  Wyatt  to  keep  from  me  any  of  his 
artistical  secrets;  but  here  he  evidently  intended  to 
steal  a  march  upon  me  and  smuggle  a  fine  picture  to 
New  York,  under  my  very  nose ;  expecting  me  to  know 
nothing  of  the  matter.  I  resolved  to  quiz  him  well, 
now  and  hereafter. 

One  thing,  however,  annoyed  me  not  a  little.  The 
box  did  not  go  into  the  extra  stateroom.  It  was  de 
posited  in  Wyatt's  own;  and  there,  too,  it  remained, 
occupying  very  nearly  the  whole  of  the  floor,  no  doubt 
to  the  exceeding  discomfort  of  the  artist  and  his  wife ; 
this  the  more  especially  as  the  tar  or  paint  with  which 
it  was  lettered  in  sprawling  capitals  emitted  a  strong, 
disagreeable,  and,  to  my  fancy,  a  peculiarly  disgusting 
odor.  On  the  lid  were  painted  the  words :  "  Mrs. 
Adelaide  Curtis,  Albany,  New  York.  Charge  of  Cor 
nelius  Wyatt,  Esq.  This  side  up.  To  be  handled  with 
care." 

Now,  I  was  aware  that  Mrs.  Adelaide  Curtis  of 
Albany  was  the  artist's  wife's  mother;  but  then  I 
looked  upon  the  whole  address  as  a  mystification,  in 
tended  especially  for  myself.  I  made  up  my  mind,  of 
course,  that  the  box  and  contents  would  never  get  far 
ther  north  than  the  studio  of  my  misanthropic  friend 
in  Chambers  Street,  New  York. 

For  the  first  three  or  four  days  we  had  fine  weather, 
although  the  wind  was  dead  ahead,  having  chopped 

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The  Oblong  Box 

round  to  the  northward  immediately  upon  our  losing 
sight  of  the  coast.  The  passengers  were,  consequently, 
in  high  spirits  and  disposed  to  be  social.  I  must  ex 
cept,  however,  Wyatt  and  his  sisters,  who  behaved 
stiffly,  and,  I  could  not  help  thinking,  uncourteously,  to 
the  rest  of  the  party.  Wyatt's  conduct  I  did  not  so 
much  regard.  He  was  gloomy,  even  beyond  his  usual 
habit, — in  fact,  he  was  morose;  but  in  him  I  was 
prepared  for  eccentricity.  For  the  sisters,  however,  I 
could  make  no  excuse.  They  secluded  themselves  in 
their  staterooms  during  the  greater  part  of  the  passage, 
and  absolutely  refused,  although  I  repeatedly  urged 
them,  to  hold  communication  with  any  person  on 
board. 

Mrs.  Wyatt  herself  was  far  more  agreeable.  That  is 
to  say,  she  was  chatty;  and  to  be  chatty  is  no  slight 
recommendation  at  sea.  She  became  excessively  in 
timate  with  most  of  the  ladies;  and,  to  my  profound 
astonishment,  evinced  no  equivocal  disposition  to 
coquet  with  the  men.  She  amused  us  all  very  much. 
I  say  "  amused ,"  and  scarcely  know  how  to  explain 
myself.  The  truth  is,  I  soon  found  that  Mrs.  W.  was 
far  oftener  laughed  at  than  with.  The  gentlemen 
said  little  about  her;  but  the  ladies  in  a  little  while 
pronounced  her  "  a  good-hearted  thing,  rather  indiffer 
ent-looking,  totally  uneducated,  and  decidedly  vulgar." 
The  great  wonder  was,  how  Wyatt  had  been  entrapped 
into  such  a  match.  Wealth  was  the  general  solution, 

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but  this  I  knew  to  be  no  solution  at  all ;  for  Wyatt  had 
told  me  that  she  neither  brought  him  a  dollar  nor  had 
any  expectations  from  any  source  whatever.  "  He 
had  married,"  he  said,  "  for  love,  and  for  love  only; 
and  his  bride  was  far  more  than  worthy  of  his  love." 
When  I  thought  of  these  expressions  on  the  part  of 
my  friend,  I  confess  that  I  felt  indescribably  puzzled. 
Could  it  be  possible  that  he  was  taking  leave  of  his 
senses  ?  What  else  could  I  think  ?  He,  so  refined, 
so  intellectual,  so  fastidious,  with  so  exquisite  a  percep 
tion  of  the  faulty,  and  so  keen  an  appreciation  of  the 
beautiful !  To  be  sure,  the  lady  seemed  especially  fond 
of  him,  particularly  so  in  his  absence,  when  she  made 
herself  ridiculous  by  frequent  quotations  of  what  had 
been  said  by  her  "  beloved  husband,  Mr.  Wyatt."  The 
word  "  husband  "  seemed  forever,  to  use  one  of  her 
own  delicate  expressions, — forever  "  on  the  tip  of  her 
tongue."  In  the  meantime  it  was  observed  by  all  on 
board  that  he  avoided  her  in  the  most  pointed  manner, 
and,  for  the  most  part,  shut  himself  up  alone  in  his 
stateroom,  where,  in  fact,  he  might  have  been  said  to 
live  altogether,  leaving  his  wife  at  full  liberty  to  amuse 
herself  as  she  thought  best  in  the  public  society  of  the 
main  cabin. 

My  conclusion,  from  what  I  saw  and  heard,  was  that 
the  artist,  by  some  unaccountable  freak  of  fate,  or  per 
haps  in  some  fit  of  enthusiastic  and  fanciful  passion, 
had  been  induced  to  unite  himself  with  a  person  alto- 

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The  Oblong  Box 

gether  beneath  him,  and  that  the  natural  result,  entire 
and  speedy  disgust,  had  ensued.  I  pitied  him  from  the 
bottom  of  my  heart,  but  could  not,  for  that  reason, 
quite  forgive  his  incommunicativeness  in  the  matter 
of  the  Last  Supper.  For  this  I  resolved  to  have  my 
revenge. 

One  day  he  came  up  on  deck,  and,  taking  his  arm  as 
had  been  my  wont,  I  sauntered  with  him  backward  and 
forward.  His  gloom,  however  (which  I  considered 
quite  natural  under  the  circumstances),  seemed  en 
tirely  unabated.  He  said  little,  and  that  moodily,  and 
with  evident  effort.  I  ventured  a  jest  or  two,  and  he 
made  a  sickening  attempt  at  a  smile.  Poor  fellow !  as 
I  thought  of  his  wife  I  wondered  that  he  could  have 
heart  to  put  on  even  the  semblance  of  mirth.  At  last 
I  ventured  a  home  thrust.  I  determined  to  commence 
a  series  of  covert  insinuations,  or  innuendos,  about  the 
oblong  box,  just  to  let  him  perceive,  gradually,  that  I 
was  not  altogether  the  butt,  or  victim,  of  his  little  bit  of 
pleasant  mystification.  My  first  observation  was  by 
way  of  opening  a  masked  battery.  I  said  something 
about  the  "  peculiar  shape  of  that  box  " ;  and,  as  I 
spoke  the  words  I  smiled  knowingly,  winked,  and 
touched  him  gently  with  my  forefinger  in  the  ribs. 

The  manner  in  which  Wyatt  received  this  harmless 
pleasantry  convinced  me  at  once  that  he  was  mad.  At 
first  he  stared  at  me  as  if  he  found  it  impossible  to 
comprehend  the  witticism  of  my  remark;  but  as  its 


The  Oblong  Box 

^m ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 

point  seemed  slowly  to  make  its  way  into  his  brain, 
his  eyes,  in  the  same  proportion,  seemed  protruding 
from  their  sockets.  Then  he  grew  very  red,  then  hide 
ously  pale,  then,  as  if  highly  amused  with  what  I  had 
insinuated,  he  began  a  loud  and  boisterous  laugh, 
which,  to  my  astonishment,  he  kept  up,  with  gradually 
increasing  vigor,  for  ten  minutes  or  more.  In  conclu 
sion,  he  fell  flat  and  heavily  upon  the  deck.  When  I 
ran  to  uplift  him,  to  all  appearance  he  was  dead. 

I  called  assistance,  and,  with  much  difficulty,  we 
brought  him  to  himself.  Upon  reviving  he  spoke  in 
coherently  for  some  time.  At  length  we  bled  him  and 
put  him  to  bed.  The  next  morning  he  was  quite  re 
covered,  so  far  as  regarded  his  mere  bodily  health.  Of 
his  mind  I  say  nothing,  of  course.  I  avoided  him 
during  the  rest  of  the  passage,  by  advice  of  the  Captain, 
who  seemed  to  coincide  with  me  altogether  in  my 
views  of  his  insanity,  but  cautioned  me  to  say  nothing 
on  this  head  to  any  person  on  board. 

Several  circumstances  occurred  immediately  after 
this  fit  of  Wyatt's  which  contributed  to  heighten  the 
curiosity  with  which  I  was  already  possessed.  Among 
other  things,  this :  I  had  been  nervous ;  drank  too  much 
strong  green  tea,  and  slept  ill  at  night, — in  fact,  for  two 
nights  I  could  not  be  properly  said  to  sleep  at  all.  Now, 
my  stateroom  opened  into  the  main  cabin  or  dining- 
loom,  as  did  those  of  all  the  single  men  on  board. 
Wyatt's  three  rooms  were  in  the  after-cabin,  which 

332 


The  Oblong  Box 

was  separated  from  the  main  one  by  a  slight  sliding 
door,  never  locked  even  at  night.  As  we  were  almost 
constantly  on  a  wind,  and  the  breeze  was  not  a  little 
stiff,  the  ship  heeled  to  leeward  very  considerably ;  and 
whenever  her  starboard  side  was  to  leeward  the  sliding 
door  between  the  cabins  slid  open  and  so  remained, 
nobody  taking  the  trouble  to  get  up  and  shut  it.  But 
my  berth  was  in  such  a  position  that  when  my  own 
stateroom  door  was  open,  as  well  as  the  sliding  door 
in  question  (and  my  own  door  was  always  open  on 
account  of  the  heat),  I  could  see  into  the  after-cabin 
quite  distinctly,  and  just  at  that  portion  of  it,  too, 
where  were  situated  the  staterooms  of  Mr.  Wyatt. 
Well,  during  two  nights  (not  consecutive),  while  I  lay 
awake,  I  clearly  saw  Mrs.  W.,  about  eleven  o'clock 
upon  each  night,  steal  cautiously  from  the  stateroom 
of  Mr.  W.  and  enter  the  extra  room,  where  she  re 
mained  until  daybreak,  when  she  was  called  by  her 
husband  and  went  back.  That  they  were  virtually 
separated  was  clear.  They  had  separate  apartments, 
no'  doubt  in  contemplation  of  a  more  permanent  di 
vorce  ;  and  here,  after  all,  I  thought,  was  the  mystery 
of  the  extra  stateroom. 

There  was  another  circumstance,  too,  which  inter 
ested  me  much.  During  the  two  wakeful  nights  in 
question,  and  immediately  after  the  disappearance  of 
Mrs.  Wyatt  into  the  extra  stateroom,  I  was  attracted 
by  certain  singular,  cautious,  subdued  noises  in  that  of 

333 


The  Oblong  Box 

— — ^_ ^^^— ^—  * 

her  husband.  After  listening  to  them  for  some  time 
with  thoughtful  attention,  I  at  length  succeeded  per 
fectly  in  translating  their  import.  They  were  sounds 
occasioned  by  the  artist  in  prying  open  the  oblong  box 
by  means  of  a  chisel  and  mallet,  the  latter  being  appar 
ently  muffled  or  deadened  by  some  soft  woollen  or  cot 
ton  substance  in  which  its  head  was  enveloped. 

In  this  manner  I  fancied  I  could  distinguish  the  pre 
cise  moment  when  he  fairly  disengaged  the  lid,  also  that 
I  could  determine  when  he  removed  it  altogether,  and 
when  he  deposited  it  upon  the  lower  berth  in  his  room ; 
this  latter  point  I  knew,  for  example,  by  certain  slight 
taps  which  the  lid  made  in  striking  against  the  wooden 
edges  of  the  berth  as  he  endeavored  to  lay  it  down  very 
gently,  there  being  no  room  for  it  on  the  floor.  After 
this  there  was  a  dead  stillness,  and  I  heard  nothing 
more,  upon  either  occasion,  until  nearly  daybreak; 
unless,  perhaps,  I  may  mention  a  low  sobbing  or  mur 
muring  sound,  so  very  much  suppressed  as  to  be  nearly 
inaudible,  if,  indeed,  the  whole  of  this  latter  noise  were 
not  rather  produced  by  my  own  imagination.  I  say  it 
seemed  to  resemble  sobbing  or  sighing,  but,  of  course, 
it  could  not  have  been  either.  I  rather  think  it  was  a 
ringing  in  my  own  ears.  Mr.  Wyatt,  no  doubt,  accord 
ing  to  custom,  was  merely  giving  the  rein  to  one  of  his 
hobbies,  indulging  in  one  of  his  fits  of  artistic  enthusi 
asm.  He  had  opened  his  oblong  box  in  order  to  feast 
htq  eyes  on  the  pictorial  treasure  within.  There  was 

334 


The  Oblong  Box 

nothing  in  this,  however,  to  make  him  sob.  I  repeat, 
therefore,  that  it  must  have  been  simply  a  freak  of  my 
own  fancy,  distempered  by  good  Captain  Hardy's  green 
tea.  Just  before  dawn,  on  each  of  the  two  nights  of 
which  I  speak,  I  distinctly  heard  Mr.  Wyatt  replace 
the  lid  upon  the  oblong  box,  and  force  the  nails 
into  their  old  places  by  means  of  the  muffled  mallet. 
Having  done  this,  he  issued  from  his  stateroom,  fully 
dressed,  and  proceeded  to  call  Mrs.  W.  from  hers. 

We  had  been  at  sea  seven  days,  and  were  now  off 
Cape  Hatteras,  when  there  came  a  tremendously  heavy 
blow  from  the  southwest.  We  were,  in  a  measure, 
prepared  for  it,  however,  as  the  weather  had  been  hold 
ing  out  threats  for  some  time.  Everything  was  made 
snug,  alow  and  aloft;  and,  as  the  wind  steadily  fresh 
ened,  we  lay  to,  at  length,  under  spanker  and  foretop- 
sail,  both  double-reefed. 

In  this  trim  we  rode  safely  enough  for  forty-eight 
hours,  the  ship  proving  herself  an  excellent  sea-boat 
in  many  respects,  and  shipping  no  water  of  any  conse 
quence.  At  the  end  of  this  period,  however,  the  gale 
had  freshened  into  a  hurricane,  and  our  after-sail 
split  into  ribbons,  bringing  us  so  much  in  the  trough  of 
the  water  that  we  shipped  several  prodigious  seas,  one 
immediately  after  the  other.  By  this  accident  we  lost 
three  men  overboard  with  the  caboose,  and  nearly  the 
whole  of  the  larboard  bulwarks.  Scarcely  had  we  re 
covered  our  senses  before  the  foretopsail  went  into 

335 


The  Oblong  Box 

shreds,  when  we  got  up  a  storm  staysail,  and  with  this 
did  pretty  well  for  some  hours,  the  ship  heading  the 
sea  much  more  steadily  than  before. 

The  gale  still  held  on,  however,  and  we  saw  no  signs 
of  its  abating.  The  rigging  was  found  to  be  ill-fitted 
and  greatly  strained ;  and  on  the  third  day  of  the  blow, 
about  five  in  the  afternoon,  our  mizzenmast,  in  a 
heavy  lurch  to  windward,  went  by  the  board.  For  an 
hour  or  more  we  tried  in  vain  to  get  rid  of  it,  on  ac 
count  of  the  prodigious  rolling  of  the  ship ;  and,  before 
we  had  succeeded,  the  carpenter  came  aft  and  an 
nounced  four  feet  water  in  the  hold.  To  add  to  our 
dilemma,  we  found  the  pumps  choked  and  nearly 
useless. 

All  was  now  confusion  and  despair,  but  an  effort  was 
made  to  lighten  the  ship  by  throwing  overboard  as 
much  of  her  cargo  as  could  be  reached,  and  by  cutting 
away  the  two  masts  that  remained.  This  we  at  last 
accomplished,  but  we  were  still  unable  to  do  anything 
at  the  pumps;  and,  in  the  meantime,  the  leak  gained 
on  us  very  fast. 

At  sundown  the  gale  had  sensibly  diminished  in  vio 
lence,  and,  as  the  sea  went  down  with  it,  we  still  enter 
tained  faint  hopes  of  saving  ourselves  in  the  boats. 
At  eight  P.M.,  the  clouds  broke  away  to  windward,  and 
we  had  the  advantage  of  a  full  moon,  a  piece  of  good 
fortune  which  served  wonderfully  to  cheer  our  droop 
ing  spirits. 

336 


The  Oblong  Box 

After  incredible  labor  we  succeeded,  at  length,  in* 
getting  the  long-boat  over  the  side  without  material 
accident,  and  into  this  we  crowded  the  whole  of  the 
crew  and  most  of  the  passengers.  This  party  made  off 
immediately,  and,  after  undergoing  much  suffering, 
finally  arrived  in  safety  at  Ocracoke  Inlet,  on  the  third 
day  after  the  wreck. 

Fourteen  passengers,  with  the  Captain,  remained  on 
board,  resolving  to  trust  their  fortunes  to  the  jolly- 
boat  at  the  stern.  We  lowered  it  without  difficulty, 
although  it  was  only  by  a  miracle  that  we  prevented  it 
from  swamping  as  it  touched  the  water.  It  contained, 
when  afloat,  the  Captain  and  his  wife,  Mr.  Wyatt  and 
party,  a  Mexican  officer,  wife,  four  children,  and  my 
self,  with  a  negro  valet. 

We  had  no  room,  of  course,  for  anything  except  a 
few  positively  necessary  instruments,  some  provisions, 
and  the  clothes  upon  our  backs.  No  one  had  thought 
of  even  attempting  to  save  anything  more.  What 
must  have  been  the  astonishment  of  all,  then,  when, 
having  proceeded  a  few  fathoms  from  the  ship,  Mr. 
Wyatt  stood  up  hi  the  stern-sheets  and  coolly  demanded 
of  Captain  Hardy  that  the  boat  should  be  put  back  for 
the  purpose  of  taking  in  his  oblong  box ! 

"  Sit  down,  Mr.  Wyatt,"  replied  the  Captain,  some 
what  sternly ;  "  you  will  capsize  us  if  you  do  not  sit 
quite  still.  Our  gunwale  is  almost  in  the  water  now." 

"  The  box!  "  vociferated  Mr.  Wyatt,  still  standing, 
VOL'V-22'  337  ' 


The  Oblong  Box 

"  the  box,  I  say !  Captain  Hardy,  you  cannot,  you  will 
not  refuse  me.  Its  weight  will  be  but  a  trifle,  it  is 
nothing,  mere  nothing.  By  the  mother  who  bore  you 
—for  the  love  of  Heaven — by  your  hope  of  salvation,  I 
implore  you  to  put  back  for  the  box!  " 

The  Captain  for  a  moment  seemed  touched  by  the 
earnest  appeal  of  the  artist,  but  he  regained  his  stern 
composure,  and  merely  said : 

"  Mr.  Wyatt,  you  are  mad.  I  cannot  listen  to  you. 
Sit  down,  I  say,  or  you  will  swamp  the  boat.  Stayi 
hold  him,  seize  him !  he  is  about  to  spring  overboard ! 
There — I  knew  it — he  is  over!  " 

As  the  Captain  said  this,  Mr.  Wyatt,  in  fact,  sprang 
from  the  boat,  and,  as  we  were  yet  in  the  lee  of  the 
wreck,  succeeded,  by  almost  superhuman  exertion,  in 
getting  hold  of  a  rope  which  hung  from  the  fore- 
chains.  In  another  moment  he  was  on  board,  and 
rushing  frantically  down  into  the  cabin. 

In  the  meantime  we  had  been  swept  astern  of  the 
fchip,  and  being  quite  out  of  her  lee,  were  at  the  mercy 
of  the  tremendous  sea  which  was  still  running.  We 
made  a  determined  effort  to  put  back,  but  our  little 
boat  was  like  a  feather  in  the  breath  of  the  tempest. 
We  saw  at  a  glance  that  the  doom  of  the  unfortunate 
artist  was  sealed. 

As  our  distance  from  the  wreck  rapidly  increased,/ 
the  madman  (for  as  such  only  could  we  regard  him] 
was  seen  to   emerge  from    the    companionway,  up 

338 


THE  OBLONQ  BOX 
In  another  instant  both  body  and  box  were  in  the  sea." 


The  Oblong  Box 

which,  by  dint  of  strength  that  appeared  gigantic,  he 
dragged,  bodily,  the  oblong  box.  While  we  gazed  in 
the  extremity  of  astonishment,  he  passed  rapidly 
several  turns  of  a  three-inch  rope,  first  around  the  box 
and  then  around  his  body.  In  another  instant  both 
body  and  box  were  in  the  sea,  disappearing  suddenly, 
at  once  and  forever. 

We  lingered  awhile  sadly  upon  our  oars,  with  our 
eyes  riveted  upon  the  spot.  At  length  we  pulled  away. 
The  silence  remained  unbroken  for  an  hour.  Finally 
I  hazarded  a  remark. 

"  Did  you  observe,  Captain,  how  suddenly  they  sank? 
Was  not  that  an  exceedingly  singular  thing  ?  I  con 
fess  that  I  entertained  some  feeble  hope  of  his  final 
deliverance  when  I  saw  him  lash  himself  to  the  box 
and  commit  himself  to  the  sea." 

"  They  sank  as  a  matter  of  course,"  replied  the  Cap 
tain,  "  and  that  like  a  shot.  They  will  soon  rise  again, 
however,  but  not  till  the  salt  melts." 

"The  salt!"  I  ejaculated. 

"  Hush!  "  said  the  Captain,  pointing  to  the  wife  and 
sisters  of  the  deceased.  "  We  must  talk  of  these 
things  at  some  more  appropriate  time." 


We  suffered  much  and  made  a  narrow  escape;  but 
fortune  befriended  us,  as  well  as  our  mates  in  the  long 
boat.  We  landed,  in  fine,  more  dead  than  alive,  after 

339 


The  Oblong  Box 

four  days  of  intense  distress,  upon  the  beach  opposite 
Roanoke  Island.  We  remained  here  a  week>  were  not 
ill-treated  by  the  wreckers,  and  at  length  obtained  a 
passage  to  New  York. 

About  a  month  after  the  loss  of  the  Independency 
I  happened  to  meet  Captain  Hardy  in  Broadway.  Our 
conversation  turned,  naturally,  upon  the  disaster,  and 
especially  upon  the  sad  fate  of  poor  Wyatt.  I  thus 
learned  the  following  particulars : 

The  artist  had  engaged  passage  for  himself,  wife, 
two  sisters,  and  a  servant.  His  wife  was  indeed,  as  she 
had  been  represented,  a  most  lovely  and  most  accom 
plished  woman.  On  the  morning  of  the  fourteenth  of 
June  (the  day  in  which  I  first  visited  the  ship),  the  lady 
suddenly  sickened  and  died.  The  young  husband  was 
frantic  with  grief,  but  circumstances  imperatively  for 
bade  the  deferring  his  voyage  to  New  York.  It  was 
necessary  to  take  to  her  mother  the  corpse  of  his 
adored  wife,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  universal 
prejudice  which  would  prevent  his  doing  so  openly  was 
well  known.  Nine  tenths  of  the  passengers  would 
have  abandoned  the  ship  rather  than  take  passage  with 
a  dead  body. 

In  this  dilemma  Captain  Hardy  arranged  that  the 
corpse,  being  first  partially  embalmed  and  packed,  with 
a  large  quantity  of  salt  in  a  box  of  suitable  dimensions, 
should  be  conveyed  on  board  as  merchandise.  Nothing 
was  to  be  said  of  the  lady's  decease ;  and,  as  it  was  well 

340 


THE  OBLONQ  BOX 

"  They  will  soon  rise  again,  however,  but  not  till  the  salt 
melts." 


The  Oblong  Box 

understood  that  Mr.  Wyatt  had  engaged  passage  for 
his  wife,  it  became  necessary  that  some  person  should 
personate  her  during  the  voyage.  This  the  deceased 
lady's  maid  was  easily  prevailed  on  to  do.  The  extra 
stateroom,  originally  engaged  for  this  girl  during  her 
mistress's  life,  was  now  merely  retained.  In  this 
stateroom  the  pseudo-wife  slept,  of  course,  every 
night.  In  the  daytime  she  performed,  to  the  best  of 
her  ability,  the  part  of  her  mistress,  whose  person,  it 
had  been  carefully  ascertained,  was  unknown  to  any 
of  the  passengers  on  board. 

My  own  mistake  arose,  naturally  enough,  through 
too  careless,  too  inquisitive,  and  too  impulsive  a  tem 
perament.  But  of  late  it  is  a  rare  thing  that  I  sleep 
soundly  at  night.  There  is  a  countenance  which 
haunts  me,  turn  as  I  will.  There  is  an  hysterical 
laugh  which  will  forever  ring  within  my  ears. 


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